Have His Carcase

‘That will be a relief to his mind. He’s been a bit nervy — about this alibi of his. He skipped like a ram when he caught sight of Mrs Morecambe.’

‘Did he? Skipping for joy, I expect After all, you can’t be surprised. How’s he to know what tune the alibi’s wanted for? We’ve managed to keep that part of it out of the papers, and he probably still thinks, as we did at first, that Alexis was dead some time before Miss Vane found — the body. He can’t help knowing that he had a jolly good motive for killing Alexis, and that he was here under dashed suspicious circumstances. In any case, we’ve got to let him out, because, if he did the murder or helped to do it, he wouldn’t make any mistake about the time. He’s scared stiff, and I don’t blame him. But his not knowing lets him out as surely and certainly as if he had a really cast-iron alibi for two o’clock.’

‘Much more surely, my dear man. It’s when I find people with cast-iron alibis that I begin to suspect them. Though Weldon’s two o’clock alibi seems to be as nearly cast-iron as anything can be. But it’s only when somebody comes along and swears himself black in the face that he saw Weldon behaving with perfect innocence at two o’clock precisely that I’ll begin seriously to weave a hempen neck-tie for him. Unless, of course-’

‘Well?’

‘Unless, I was going to say, there was a conspiracy between Weldon and some other person to kill Alexis, and the actual killing was done by the other person. I mean, supposing, for example, Weldon and our friend Bright were both in it, and Bright was scheduled to do the dirty deed at eleven o’clock, for example, while Weldon established his own alibi, and suppose there was some hitch in the arrangements so that the murder didn’t come off till two, and suppose Weldon didn’t know that and was still sticking to the original time-table — how about that?’

‘That’s supposing a lot. Bright — or whoever it was — has had plenty of time to communicate with Weldon. He wouldn’t be such a fool as not to let him know.

‘True; I’m not satisfied with that suggestion. It doesn’t seem to fit Bright.’

‘Besides, Bright really has a cast-iron alibi for two.’

‘I know. That’s why I suspect him. But what I mean is that Bright is a free agent. Even if it was too dangerous to meet Weldon he could always have written or telephoned, and so could Weldon. You haven’t got anybody in jug who would fit the bill, I suppose? Or any sudden deaths? The only thing I can think of is that the accomplice may have been in some place where he couldn’t communicate with anybody — quod, or six foot of elm with brass handles.’

‘Or how about a hospital?’

‘Or, as you say, a hospital.’

‘That’s an idea,’ said Glaisher. ‘We’ll look into that, my lord.’

‘It can’t’ do any harm — though I haven’t much faith in it. I seem to have lost my faith lately, as the good folks say. Well, thank Heaven! it’s nearly dinner-time, and one can always eat. Hullo — ullo — ullo! What’s all the excitement?’

Superintendent Glaisher looked out of the window. There was a noise of trampling feet.

‘They’re carrying something down to the mortuary. I wonder—’

The door burst open with scant ceremony and Inspector Umpelty surged in, damp and triumphant.

‘Sorry, sir,’ he said. ‘Good-evening, my lord. We’ve got the body!’

Chapter XXI. The Evidence At The Inquest

‘‘At the word, “I’m murdered,”

The gaolers of the dead throw back the grave-stone,

Split the deep ocean, and unclose the mountain

To let the buried pass.’

— Death’s Jest-Book

Friday, 26 June

THE inquest upon the body of Paul Alexis was held on June 26th, to the undisguised relief and triumph of Inspector Umpelty. For years (it seemed to him) he had been trying to make an investigation about nothing tangible. But for Harriet’s photographs, he might, in his more worried moments, have begun to think that the body was a myth. Now, however, here it definitely was — a real, solid or comparatively solid — body. True, it was not quite so informative as he had hoped. It was not served out to him complete with a ticket, marked in, plain figures: ‘Suicide, with care’, or ‘This Year’s Murder-Model; Body by Bright’. However, there was the corpse, and that was something gained. To quote Lord Peter (who seemed to be specialising in the provision of mnemonics), he might now say:

“Twould make a man drink himself dead on gin-toddy To have neither a corpus delicti nor body; But now though by destiny scurvily tricked, I At least have a corpse — though no corups delieti.’