“She didn’t murder him anyway,” she remarked at last. “Not with a hat pin.”
“Why this certainty?”
“A Lady Molly touch. She’s got bobbed hair. Only one woman in twenty uses hat pins nowadays, anyway-long hair or short. Hats fit tight and pull on-there’s no need for such a thing.”
“Still, she might have had one by her.”
“My dear boy, we don’t keep them as heirlooms! What on earth should she have brought a hat pin down to Sunningdale for?”
“Then it must have been the other woman, the woman in brown.”
“I wish she hadn’t been tall. Then she could have been the wife. I always suspect wives who are away at the time and so couldn’t have had anything to do with it. If she found her husband carrying on with that girl, it would be quite natural for her to go for him with a hat pin.”
“I shall have to be careful, I see,” remarked Tommy.
But Tuppence was deep in thought and refused to be drawn.
“What were the Sessles like?” she asked suddenly. “What sort of thing did people say about them?”
“As far as I can make out, they were very popular. He and his wife were supposed to be devoted to one another. That’s what makes the business of the girl so odd. It’s the last thing you’d have expected of a man like Sessle. He was an ex-soldier, you know. Came into a good bit of money, retired and went into this Insurance business. The last man in the world, apparently, whom you would have suspected of being a crook.”
“Is it absolutely certain that he was the crook? Couldn’t it have been the other two who took the money?”
“The Hollabys? They say they’re ruined.”
“Oh, they say! Perhaps they’ve got it all in a Bank under another name. I put it foolishly, I daresay, but you know what I mean. Suppose they’d been speculating with the money for some time, unbeknownst to Sessle, and lost it all. It might be jolly convenient for them that Sessle died just when he did.”
Tommy tapped the photograph of Mr. Hollaby senior with his finger nail.
“So you’re accusing this respectable gentleman of murdering his friend and partner? You forget that he parted from Sessle on the links in full view of Barnard and Lecky, and spent the evening in the Dormy House. Besides, there’s the hat pin.”
“Bother the hat pin,” said Tuppence impatiently. “That hat pin, you think, points to the crime having been committed by a woman?”
“Naturally. Don’t you agree?”
“No. Men are notoriously old fashioned. It takes them ages to rid themselves of preconceived ideas. They associate hat pins and hairpins with the female sex, and call them ‘women’s weapons.’ They may have been in the past, but they’re both rather out of date now. Why, I haven’t had a hat pin or hairpin for the last four years.”
“Then you think-?”
“That it was a man killed Sessle. The hat pin was used to make it seem a woman’s crime.”
“There’s something in what you say, Tuppence,” said Tommy slowly. “It’s extraordinary how things seem to straighten themselves out when you talk a thing over.”
Tuppence nodded.
“Everything must be logical-if you look at it the right way. And remember what Marriot once said about the Amateur point of view-that it had the intimacy. We know something about people like Captain Sessle and his wife. We know what they’re likely to do-and what they’re not likely to do. And we’ve each got our special knowledge.”
Tommy smiled.
“You mean,” he said, “that you are an authority on what people with bobbed and shingled heads are likely to have in their possession, and that you have an intimate acquaintance with what wives are likely to feel and do?”
“Something of the sort.”
“And what about me? What is my special knowledge? Do husbands pick up girls etc.?”
“No,” said Tuppence gravely. “You know the course you’ve been on it-not as a detective, searching for clues, but as a golfer. You know about golf, and what’s likely to put a man off his game.”
“It must have been something pretty serious to put Sessle off his game. His handicap’s two, and from the seventh tee on he played like a child, so they say.”