The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding

‘Deliberately establishing an alibi,’ said Raymond West hopefully.

‘Maybe,’ said Inspector Welch, ‘but if so, he did establish it.’

There was a long silence. Then Raymond turned his head to where Miss Marple sat upright and thoughtful.

‘It's up to you, Aunt Jane,’ he said. ‘The inspector's baffled, the sergeant's baffled, I'm baffled, Joan's baffled, Lou is baffled. But to you, Aunt Jane, it is crystal clear. Am I right?’

‘I wouldn't say that, dear,’ said Miss Marple, ‘not crystal clear, and murder, dear Raymond, isn't a game. I don't suppose poor Miss Greenshaw wanted to die, and it was a particularly brutal murder. Very well-planned and quite cold blooded. It's not a thing to make jokes about!’

‘I'm sorry,’ said Raymond, abashed. ‘I'm not really as callous as I sound. One treats a thing lightly to take away from the — well, the horror of it.’

‘That is, I believe, the modern tendency,’ said Miss Marple, ‘All these wars, and having to joke about funerals. Yes, perhaps I was thoughtless when I said you were callous.’

‘It isn't,’ said Joan, ‘as though we'd known her at all well.’

‘That is very true,’ said Miss Marple. ‘You, dear Joan, did not know her at all. I did not know her at all. Raymond gathered an impression of her from one afternoon's conversation. Lou knew her for only two days.’

‘Come now, Aunt Jane,’ said Raymond, ‘tell us your views. You don't mind, Inspector?’

‘Not at all,’ said the inspector politely.

‘Well, my dear, it would seem that we have three people who had, or might have thought they had, a motive to kill the old lady. And three quite simple reasons why none of the three could have done so. The housekeeper could not have done so because she was locked in her room and because her mistress definitely stated that a man shot her. The gardener could not have done it because he was inside the Dog and Duck at the time the murder was committed, the nephew could not have done it because he was still some distance away in his car at the time of the murder.’

‘Very clearly put, madam,’ said the inspector.

‘And since it seems most unlikely that any outsider should have done it, where, then, are we?’

‘That's what the inspector wants to know,’ said Raymond West.

‘One so often looks at a thing the wrong way round,’ said Miss Marple apologetically. ‘If we can't alter the movements or the positions of those three people, then couldn't we perhaps alter the time of the murder?’

‘You mean that both my watch and the clock were wrong?’ asked Lou.

‘No dear,’ said Miss Marple, ‘I didn't mean that at all. I mean that the murder didn't occur when you thought it occurred.’

‘But I saw it,’ cried Lou.

‘Well, what I have been wondering, my dear, was whether you weren't meant to see it. I've been asking myself, you know, whether that wasn't the real reason why you were engaged for this job.’

‘What do you mean, Aunt Jane?’

‘Well, dear, it seems odd. Miss Greenshaw did not like spending money, and yet she engaged you and agreed quite willingly to the terms you asked. It seems to me that perhaps you were meant to be there in that library on the first floor, looking out of the window so that you could be the key witness — someone from outside of irreproachably good faith — to fix a definite time and place for the murder.’

‘But you can't mean,’ said Lou incredulously, ‘that Miss Greenshaw intended to be murdered.’

‘What I mean, dear,’ said Miss Marple, ‘is that you didn't really know Miss Greenshaw. There's no real reason, is there, why the Miss Greenshaw you saw when you went up to the house should be the same Miss Greenshaw that Raymond saw a few days earlier? Oh yes, I know,’ she went on, to prevent Lou's reply, ‘she was wearing the peculiar old-fashioned print dress and the strange straw hat, and had unkempt hair. She corresponded exactly to the description Raymond gave us last week-end. But those two women, you know, were much the same age and height and size. The housekeeper, I mean, and Miss Greenshaw.’

‘But the housekeeper is fat!’ Lou exclaimed. ‘She's got an enormous bosom.’

Miss Marple coughed.

‘But, my dear, surely, nowadays I have seen — er — them myself in shops most indelicately displayed. It is very easy for anyone to have a — a bust — of any size and dimension.’

‘What are you trying to say?’ demanded Raymond.

‘I was just thinking, dear, that during the two or three days Lou was working there, one woman could have played the two parts. You said yourself, Lou, that you hardly saw the housekeeper, except for the one moment in the morning when she brought you the tray with coffee. One sees those clever artists on the stage coming in as different characters with only a minute or two to spare, and I am sure the change could have been effected quite easily. That marquise head-dress could be just a wig slipped on and off.’

‘Aunt Jane! Do you mean that Miss Greenshaw was dead before I started work there?’