“You mean that that’s where — ” “There must have been a reason for making the change, and there doesn’t really seem to be a sensible one. It is, frankly, a stupid place to have steps down to the lawn. But that end of the terrace is a very quiet place — it’s not overlooked from the house except by one window — the window of the nursery, on the first floor. Don’t you see, that if you want to bury a body the earth will be disturbed and there must be a reason for its being disturbed. The reason was that it had been decided to move the steps from in front of the drawing-room to the end of the terrace. I’ve learnt already from Dr. Kennedy that Helen Halliday and her husband were very keen on the garden, and did a lot of work in it. The daily gardener they employed used merely to carry out their orders, and if he arrived to find that this change was in progress and some of the flags had already been moved, he would only have thought that the Hallidays had started on the work when he wasn’t there. The body, of course, could have been buried at either place, but we can be quite certain, I think, that it is actually buried at the end of the terrace and not in front of the drawing-room window.” “Why can we be sure?” asked Gwenda.
“Because of what poor Lily Kimble said in her letter — that she changed her mind about the body being in the cellar because of what Leonie saw when she looked out of the window. That makes it very clear, doesn’t it? The Swiss girl looked out of the nursery window at some time during the night and saw the grave being dug. Perhaps she actually saw who it was digging it.” “And never said anything to the police?” “My dear, there was no question at the time of a crime having occurred. Mrs.
Halliday had run away with a lover — that was all that Leonie would grasp. She probably couldn’t speak much English anyway. She did mention to Lily, perhaps not at the time, but later, a curious thing she had observed from her window that night, and that stimulated Lily’s belief in a crime having occurred. But I’ve no doubt that Edith Pagett told Lily off for talking nonsense, and the Swiss girl would accept her point of view and would certainly not wish to be mixed up with the police.
Foreigners always seem to be particularly nervous about the police when they are in a strange country. So she went back to Switzerland and very likely never thought of it again.M ‘ Giles said: “If she’s alive now — if she can be traced — ” Miss Marple nodded her head” “Perhaps.”
Giles demanded: “How can we set about it?” Miss Marple said: “The police will be able to do that much better than you can.” “Inspector Last is coming over here tomorrow morning.” “Then I think I should tell him — about the steps.” “And about what I saw–or think I saw–in the hall?” asked Gwenda nervously.
“Yes, dear. You’ve been very wise to say nothing of that until now. Very wise. But I think the time has come.” Giles said slowly: “She was strangled in the hall, and then the murderer carried her upstairs and put her on the bed. Kelvin Halliday came in, passed out with doped whisky, and in his turn was carried upstairs to the bedroom. He came to, and thought he had killed her. The murderer must have been watching somewhere near at hand.
When Kelvin went off to Dr. Kennedy’s, the murderer took away the body, probably hid it in the shrubbery at the end of the terrace and waited until everybody had gone to bed and was presumably asleep, before he dug the grave and buried the body. That means he must have been here, hanging about the house, pretty well all that night?” Miss Marple nodded.
“He had to be — on the spot. I remember your saying that that was important. We’ve got to see which of our three suspects fits in best with the requirements. We’ll take Erskine first. Now he definitely was on the spot. By his own admission he walked up here with Helen Kennedy from the beach at round about nine o clock. He said goodbye to her. But did he say good-bye to her? Let’s say instead that he strangled her.” “But it was all over between them,” cried Gwenda. “Long ago. He said himself that he was hardly ever alone with Helen.” “But don’t you see, Gwenda, that the way we must look at it now, we can’t depend on anything anyone says.” “Now I’m so glad to hear you say that,” said Miss Marple. “Because I’ve been a little worried, you know, by the way you two have seemed willing to accept, as actual fact, all the things that people have told’ you. I’m afraid I have a sadly distrustful nature, but, especially in a matter of murder, I make it a rule to take nothing that is told to me as true, unless it is checked.