Have His Carcase

And that was a very hit-or-miss theory, from the murderer’s point of view. How could he be sure that the animal would go back and would not hang about the place attracting attention? In fact, after being galloped violently for four and a half miles, it was far more likely to take matters easy. If one was to ignore the ring-bolt, was it not possible that the bay mare had been tethered somewhere, to be picked up later? There were weighty objections to that. There was no post or groyne along the shore to which she could have been tied, and if the murderer had brought her close in under the cliff, then he would have had to leave two lines of footprints — the mare’s in going and his own in returning. But he might have argued that this would not greatly matter if it was at some distance from the Flat-Iron. It might just be worth while to turn back and examine the shore from that point of view.

He did so, riding right up as far as the Flat-Iron itself, scrambling down by the same path that Harriet had used, and working his way along at the foot of the cliff in the direction of Darley: After about half-an-hour’s search, he found what he was looking for. There was a recess in the cliff where at some time there had been a fall of rock. Jammed in among the boulders was a large wooden post, which had apparently formed part of a fence — erected, no doubt, to keep men or animals from straying upon the dangerous part of the cliffs. If, the bay mare had been brought in there, she might easily have been tethered to the beam, while, owing to the overhang-of the cliff and the accumulation of fallen, stones, she would have been practically invisible, either from the sea or from the road above.

This discovery was gratifying, but it would have been more gratifying if Ormond could have found any positive indication that this had really, happened. The sand was so loose and dry that no recognisable marks-could be expected above high-water mark, nor, though he examined the wooden post very carefully with a lens, could he find any indications of its having been used as a horse-post. A strand of rope fibre, a horse-hair or two would have been better than a bank-note to Ormond at that moment, while a bunch of horse-droppings would have been worth its weight in rubies. But none of these simple, homely sights rewarded his anxious gaze. There was the piece-of timber and there was the recess in the cliff, and that was all.

Shaking his head, he walked to the edge of the water and set out at a brisk trot for the Flat-Iron. He found that by pelting along as fast as a heavyish, fully-clothed young constable could be expected to pelt on a hot summer’s day, he could reach the rock in twelve minutes exactly. It was too far. Five minutes’ walk was the most that Weldon could possibly have allowed himself by Wimsey’s calculation. Ormond again scrambled up the cliff, remounted his bicycle and began to do sums in his head.

By the time he arrived at the police — station, these sums had taken a definite form.

‘The way I look at it is this, sir,’ he said to Superintendent Glaisher. ‘We’ve been going along the line that it was Perkins that was providing the alibi for Weldon. Suppose it was the other way round. Suppose Weldon is providing the, alibi for Perkins. What do we know about Perkins? Only that he’s a school-teacher and that nobody seems to have kept tabs on him since last May. Now, he says he slept at Wilvercombe and didn’t start away that morning till one o’clock. That’s a bit thick to start with. The only proof he offers of that is that he bought some stuff at a chemist’s — he doesn’t remember the chemist and he isn’t clear about the time. Now we know that Weldon was in Wilvercombe that morning, and his time isn’t altogether accounted for, either. Supposing those two had met and fixed it all up there. Perkins comes along to Darley and gets the horse.’

‘We’ll have to find out whether anyone saw him pass through the village.’

‘That’s so, sir, We must check that up, naturally. But say he really got there at about 1.15 or so. Then he’d have plenty of time to get along with the mare, tie her up where that there post is, and buzz along on foot to the rock and commit his murder.’.

‘Wait a moment,’ said Glaisher. This place is fifteen minutes’ quick walk from the rock.’

‘More like fifteen minutes’ run, sir.’

‘Yes, but over wet sand; through water, actually. Shall we call it just over a mile? Right. Then that leaves three and a half miles for the mare. At eight miles an hour, that needs — eight miles in sixty minutes, one mile in sixty over eight’—Glaisher always had to work these rule-of-three problems out on the corners of blotting-pads; it had been the worst stumbling-block he had had to overcome on his way to promotion—‘thirty multiplied by seven over eight — oh, dear! divide by two — multiply — divide’

Ormond, who had the gift of being able to add three columns of figures at once in his head, waited. respectfully.