Have His Carcase

8. It is certain that he did not reach the Flat-Iron by road on Thursday. He had no time to walk by the shore before two o’clock. (Aeroplanes are not practical politics.)

Things to be Done

8. Bust this alibi if you can, Sherlock!!

Things to be Noted

9. Search at his camping — ground revealed a number of miscellaneous ob jects (see the Wimsey Collection). No complaints about him, except that Farmer Newcombe complains of gap made in his fence.

Things to be Done

9. Walk along shore from Flat-Iron to Darley thisafternoon — nice little job for H. V. and P. W. ‘And that,’ said Wimsey, triumphantly adding a flourish at the foot of this schedule, ‘rounds off the inquiry charmingly.’

‘It does.’ Harriet frowned. Then—

‘Have you ever considered this?’ she asked, with a not too steady voice. She scribbled for a moment.

HARRIET VANE

Things to be Noted

1. Personal characteristics: Once tried for murder of her lover, and acquitted by the skin of her teeth.

2. May have known Paul Alexis in London.

3. Says she found Alexis dead at 2.10, but, can bring no evidence to prove that she did not see him alive.

4. Took an unconscionable time getting to the Flat-Iron from Lesston Hoe.

5. Took three hours to walk four and a half miles to inform the police.

6. Is the sole witness to the finding of the razor, the time of the death and the conditions at the Flat-Iron.

7. Was immediately suspected by Perkins, and is probably still suspected by the police, who have been searching her room.

Wimsey’s face darkened.

‘Have they, by God?’

‘Yes. Don’t look like that. They couldi’t very well do anything else, could they?’

‘I’ll have something to say to Umpelty.’

‘No, You can spare me that.’

‘But it’s absurd.’

‘It is not. Do you think I have no wits? Do you think I don’t know why’ you came galloping down here at five minutes’ notice? Of course it’s very nice of you, and I ought to be grateful, but do you think I like it?’

Wimsey, with a grey face, got up and walked to the window.

‘You thought I was pretty brazen, I expect, when you found me getting publicity out of the thing. So I was. There’s no choice for a person like me to be anything but brazen. Would it have been better too wait till the papers dragged the juicy bits out of the, dustbin for themselves? I can’t hide my name — it’s what I live by. If I did hide it, that would only be another, suspicious circumstance, wouldn’t it? But do you think it makes matters any more agreeable to know that it is only the patronage of Lord Peter Wimsey that prevent men like Umpelty from being openly hostile?’

‘I have been afraid of this,’ said Wimsey.

‘Then why did you come?’

‘So that you might not have to send for me.’

‘Oh,’

There was a strained pause, while Wimsey painfully recalled the terms of the message that had originally reached him from Salcombe Hardy of the Morning Star Hardy, a little drunk and wholly derisory, announcing over the telephone, ‘I say, Wimsey, that Vane woman of yours has got herself mixed-up in another queer story.’ Then his own furious and terrified irruption into Fleet Street, and the violent bullying of a repentant and sentimental Hardy, till the Morning Star report was hammered into a form that set the tone for the comments of the press. Then the return home to find that the Wilvercombe police were already besieging him, in the politest and most restrained manner, for, information as to Miss Harriet Vane’s recent movements and behaviour. And finally, the certainty that the best way out of a bad situation was to brazen it out — Harriet’s word — even if it meant making a public exhibition of his feelings, and the annihilation of all the delicate structure of confidence which he had been so cautiously toiling to build up between this scathed and embittered woman and himself.

He said nothing; but watched the wreck of his fortune in Harriet’s stormy eyes.

Harriet, meanwhile, having worked herself up into committing an act of what she obscurely felt to be injustice, was seized by an unreasonable hatred against the injured party. The fact that, until five minutes earlier, she had felt perfectly happy and at ease with this man, before she had placed both him and herself in an intolerable position, she felt somehow as one more added to the list of his offences. She looked round for something really savage to do to him.

‘I suppose you think I haven’t been humiliated enough already, without all this parade of chivalry. You think you can sit up there all day like King Cophetua being noble and generous and’ expecting people to be brought to your feet. Of course everybody will, say, “Look what he did for that woman — isn’t it marvellous of him!” Isn’t that nice for you? You think if you go on long enough, I ought to be

touched and softened. Well, you’re mistaken, that’s all. I suppose every man thinks he’s only got to go on being superior and any woman will come tumbling into his arms. It’s disgusting.’