‘What made you think it mightn’t be all right?’ ‘I don’t know. I think it was the shot outside. It hadn’t meant anything at the time. But afterwards it came back into my mind. I told myself that it was only a backfire from Mr Restarick’s car ‘ ‘Mr Restarick’s car?’ ‘Yes. Alex Restarick. He arrived by car this evening he arrived just after all this happened.’ ‘I see. When you discovered Mr Gulbrandsen’s body, did you touch anything in the room?’ ‘Of course not.’ Miss Bellever sounded reproachful.
‘Naturally I knew that nothing must be touched or moved. Mr Gulbrandsen had been shot through the head but there was no firearm to be seen, so I knew it was murder.’ ‘And just now, when you took us into the room, everything was exactly as it had been when you found the body?’ Miss Bellever considered. She sat back screwing up her eyes. She had Inspector Curry thought, one of those photographic memories.
‘One thing was different,’ she said. ‘There was nothing in the typewriter.’ ‘You mean,’ said Inspector Curry, ‘that when you first went in Mr Gulbrandsen had been writing a letter on the typewriter, and that that letter had since been removed?’ ‘Yes, I’m almost sure that I saw the white edge of the paper sticking up.’
‘Thank you, Miss Believer. Who else went into that room before we arrived?’
‘Mr Serrocold, of course. He remained there when I came to meet you. And Mrs Serrocold and Miss Marple went there. Mrs Serrocold insisted.’
‘Mrs Serrocold and Miss Marple,’ said Inspector Curry. ‘Which is Miss Marple?’
‘The old lady with white hair. She was a school friend of Mrs Serrocold’s. She came on a visit about four days ago.’
‘Well, thank you, Miss Believer. All that you have told us is quite clear. I’ll go into things with Mr Serrocold now. Ah, but perhaps – Miss Marple’s an old lady, isn’t she? I’ll just have a word with her first and then she can go off to bed. Rather cruel to keep an old lady like that up,’ said Inspector Curry virtuously. ‘This must have been a shock to her.’
‘I’ll tell her, shall I?’
‘If you please.’
Miss Bellever went out. Inspector Curry looked at the ceiling.
‘Gulbrandsen?’ he said. ‘Why Gulbrandsen? Two hundred odd maladjusted youngsters on the premises.
No reason any of them shouldn’t have done it. Probably one of them did. But why Gulbrandsen? The stranger within the gates.’
Sergeant Lake said: ‘Of course we don’t know every-thing yet.’
Inspector Curry said:
‘So far, we don’t know anything at all.’
He jumped up and was gallant when Miss Marple came in. She seemed a little flustered and he hurried to put her at her ease. know, I believe that’s what made me go along to Mr Gulbrandsen’s room later. I did mean to ask him if he would like anything, but it was a kind of excuse to reassure myself that everything was all right.’ Inspector Curry stared at her for a moment.
‘What made you think it mightn’t be all right?’ ‘I don’t know. I think it was the shot outside. It hadn’t meant anything at the time. But afterwards it came back into my mind. I told myself that it was only a backfire from Mr Restarick’s car ‘ ‘Mr Restarick’s car?’ ‘Yes. Alex Restarick. He arrived by car this evening he arrived just after all this happened.’ ‘I see. When you discovered Mr Gulbrandsen’s body, did you touch anything in the room?’ ‘Of course not.’ Miss Bellever sounded reproachful.
‘Naturally I knew that nothing must be touched or moved. Mr Gulbrandsen had been shot through the head but there was no firearm to be seen, so I knew it was murder.’ ‘And just now, when you took us into the room, everything was exactly as it had been when you found the body?’ Miss Bellever considered. She sat back screwing up her eyes. She had Inspector Curry thought, one of those photographic memories.
‘One thing was different,’ she said. ‘There was nothing in the typewriter.’ ‘You mean,’ said Inspector Curry, ‘that when you first went in Mr Gulbrandsen had been writing a letter on the typewriter, and that that letter had since been removed?’ ‘Yes, I’m almost sure that I saw the white edge of the paper sticking up.’