'But you didn't touch chemistry, did you?'

  'No, but that doesn't mean a thing. The stuff was on the premises. Any member of the staff could have got at it. He had only to hook the key to the cupboard.'

  'If he'd known the stuff was there!'

  'But we all knew. Young Borgia, who was the lab. assistant, was always boasting about the poisons cupboard. He used to take a delight in telling the boys that he could do in the whole school if he wanted to. The science master heard him and complained to the Old Man.'

  Dame Beatrice intervened.

  'It is still to be proved that the school possessed stocks of potassium cyanide and of hydrocyanic acid,' she said.

  'The trouble is that it did,' said Richardson, gloomily. 'The science bloke ran a photography club and the art chap knew all about engraving.'

  Denis looked concerned, but Dame Beatrice cackled.

  'To employ one master who needed to have access to poisons might be accidental; two, in the same school, looks like carelessness on the part of the Head,' she misquoted. Laura grunted. She was always somewhat discountenanced when Dame Beatrice, like the Devil, used scripture (in the most elementary sense of the word) to prove her argument.

  'Here,' she said, suddenly becoming cheerful again, 'New Forest indicates adders. Aren't adder-bites treated with potassium-something-or-other?'

  'Indeed, yes. They may be treated by an injection of potassium permanganate solution, but that is not quite the same thing as potassium cyanide,' Dame Beatrice mildly pointed out.

  'No, perhaps not, but can't you see what must have happened? Those two men must have been bitten by adders and some clot gave them the wrong injection as an antidote. I don't believe that either of them was poisoned deliberately.'

  'A most ingenious theory,' Dame Beatrice admitted. 'It is medically sound and may well serve as a working hypothesis.'

  'Golly!' said Laura, overawed, in the Hyman Caplan fashion, by this evidence of her own genius. 'Do you really mean it?'

  'I do, but there remains the unescapable theory that if both men were bitten by adders and if both, according to your idea, were given treatment which resulted in death, coincidence is overdoing matters.'

  'But there's nothing wrong with the idea?'

  'No, no. It is most ingenious. The inquests are to be resumed three weeks from today. That should give us ample time and scope to free Mr Richardson's mind of fears and forebodings, and, I hope, to hit upon the truth.'

  'Thanks,' said Richardson gloomily.

  'I wonder what you really think?' said Laura, when she and Dame Beatrice were alone and in the car.

  'First, that Mr Richardson is entirely innocent, although I cannot feel that he has been altogether open with me.'

  'You don't think he moved Colnbrook's body from his tent and then more or less guided Denis to the spot where they found it?'

  'The trouble about that theory is that there is a very big question-mark attached to it. If he did move the body, (a task of some magnitude, incidentally, for one person) why should he have taken Denis that way? It would seem a most dangerous as well as a most illogical proceeding.'

  'Oh, I don't know. Murderers do these queer things.'

  'What about the second body, that of Mr Bunt, which the police did find in the tent? Do you suggest that Mr Richardson substituted it for that of Mr Colnbrook?'

  'Well, it could be,' said Laura, this time doubtfully. 'You see, he might have had a motive for doing in Colnbrook, but none for wanting Bunt out of the way.'

  'Dear, dear, dear!' said Dame Beatrice. 'That, of all things connected with this case, surely remains to be seen!'

  'All right. I don't mind acting as Aunt Sally. I wonder what the two lads thought about the inquest? Denis was as cool as a cucumber, but there's no doubt that poor old Richardson looked a bit green about the gills.'

  The two young men had driven in Richardson's little car to the inquest, and they had returned in it to the hotel. Laura and Dame Beatrice joined them in the bar, where there was plenty of time (as Denis pointed out) for a couple of quick ones before lunch, for the inquests had been held in the morning.

  As soon as the four were settled at a table in the corner by a large window which overlooked the side of the garden, Denis said,

  'For goodness' sake, Aunt dear, put this lunatic out of his misery! He's convinced the police suspect him and he's already arranging to see a solicitor and reserve his defence.'

  Dame Beatrice bestowed upon Richardson an encouraging leer.

  'Upon what do you base your fears, dear child?' she asked.

  'Well, it all looks so damned bad,' replied Richardson. 'I can make out a case for the police as easily as though I were the Superintendent himself. They can't help but suspect me. I mean, just look at the facts!'

  'Let us include in them, then, your own movements on which, for want of a more original expression, we will call the day and night of the crime.'

  'The day and night?' Richardson looked horrified. 'How do you mean-the day and night?'

  'Well, I have had no opportunity to examine the bodies of the deceased,' said Dame Beatrice, 'but it is to be assumed that the murders-if, indeed murders they were...'

  'Person or persons unknown,' murmured Denis. 'I bet that's what it will be, unless it's brought in as suicide. Personally, I don't think it will be. I suspect the Superintendent of having something up his sleeve.'

  'Very well,' said Dame Beatrice, 'those two men were murdered. If that is so, we have to discover, in the classic formula, which person or persons had the means, the motive and the opportunity to commit these crimes.'

  'Do we believe that both crimes were committed by the same person or persons?' demanded Denis.

  'Of course we do,' said Laura. 'It would be too much of a coincidence if they were not.' She ignored the fact that she herself had invoked the arm of this goddess.

  'Two different derivatives of the same lethal substance were used, sweet coz, remember,' murmured Denis.

  'Yes, I know, but you heard what Tom said about poisons at his school. Why shouldn't science and art both be involved?'

  'Shades of Sir Christopher Wren!'

  'I don't see why not,' said Laura stoutly. 'Things are tending that way at the present time. You should read more books.'

  Dame Beatrice intervened.

  'It seems to me,' she said, 'that the Scylla and District Athletic and Social Club should be subjected to inquisition. Both the deceased were, or had been, members. Surely the solution of the mystery of these deaths might very possibly lie there.'

  'Isn't that rather too obvious a thought, dear Aunt?' asked Denis.

  'Yes, of course it is,' his great-aunt agreed. 'But, if you remember your Holmes...'

  'And also your Wodehouse,' said Laura.

  'I think it's time for lunch,' said Richardson. He seemed none the happier as a result of being present at this session of higher thought. Dame Beatrice cackled.

  'Lunch will be on for the next two hours,' she said, 'and, if you care to approach the bar counter, you will be allowed to consume (free of charge, which, as a house-keeper, I find regrettable) potato crisps, olives, cheese biscuits and frazzled bacon rinds. These should help to stave off the pangs of hunger for a while.'

  'Atta-baby!' said Laura, rising from her chair. 'He isn't the only one who feels like a starving python.'

  'In that case,' said Dame Beatrice, 'perhaps we had better go in to lunch.'

  When lunch was over, she suggested that she and Richardson should go for a run in her car while Laura and Denis followed their own devices. George was to drive his employer and the distressed young man, so that, seated together in the Jaguar, they could talk undisturbed. The route was left to George.

  'What do you want to know?' asked Richardson, when, having taken the road across a vast expanse of open pasture on which grazed ponies and cattle, the car turned across a bridge and entered magnificent woodland.

  'I want to know exactly-and, please realise that I mean what I say-exactly how you spent your time on the day which culminated in your discovery of Mr Colnbrook's body in your tent and your subsequent report to the police.'

  'Well, that's easy enough. When you're on your own you remember things ever so much better than when you're one of a party. Let's see, now. Yes.'

  'Begin with breakfast,' said Dame Beatrice.

  'Breakfast, yes. I got in to breakfast at the hotel at about nine o'clock. Is that near enough?'

  'If it is as near as you can get.'

  'Yes, well, it would have been just about then, because, you see, I had gone for a walk after I'd had a plunge in the stream. I don't know how far I went, but it would have been about seven miles, I think.'

  Two hours' walking, then?'

  'About that, I suppose. I stepped it out because, at that time in the morning, at this time of year, it's chilly.'

  'Yes. And after breakfast?'

  'I did what seems a silly thing now, but I didn't know at the time that I'd be asked to account for my actions. I went by train to New Milton and walked from there to a village where there's an interesting old manor house.'

  'That sounds innocent enough.'

  'Absolutely. The trouble is that I can't think of anybody who'll swear to my having been there.'

  'I see. And then?'

  'The manor house has been converted into flats, so I left and went to Milford-on-Sea, where I had lunch at an hotel.'

  'Excellent. The waiter will be able to identify you.'

  'Then I had a swim-very cold, of course!-and then I went into Lymington and bought some socks at one shop and some Wellington boots at another.'

  'Better and better! So what is worrying you, Mr Richardson?'

  'I don't really know. I feel as though I'm in a trap. I know the Superintendent suspects me.'

  'He probably suspects the members of the Scylla and District club a good deal more strongly, let alone the relatives of the deceased. What did you do after you left Lymington?'

  'Nothing much. I caught a bus to the level crossing in this village and walked back to the hotel. There I had dinner, as usual-'

  'As usual?'

  'Well, by that, I mean I'd dined there on the Thursday and Friday. This was the Saturday, when I'd been expecting Denis to show up, but, of course, I knew he wouldn't, because of the postcard I'd had.'

  'Postcard? Ah, yes. You walked into the village and collected it on the Friday morning, I believe. Why did you not have your correspondence addressed to the hotel?'

  'Well, it seemed rather a cheek, as I wasn't sleeping there.'

  'Dear me! I had no idea that the rising generation entertained such scruples.'

  'Everything was to be sent to the hotel once we were in residence, of course-that's to say, from last Saturday onwards. I didn't know, when I made the arrangement, that Denis couldn't come that week-end.'

  'Quite. To how many people did you give the poste restante address?'

  'To Denis himself, to my mother and to the people whose kid I'd been tutoring.'

  'I see. To nobody else?'

  'Nobody-but I did tell the Maidstons-my last employers, you know-that I was camping up on the heath.'

  'You came to the New Forest last Thursday morning and pitched your tent. At what time?'

  'Oh, a quarter to ten, near enough.'

  'You left it, on Thursday, for how long?'

  'I went back to the hotel at about twelve and got back to camp at about a quarter-past two, I think. I didn't stay in the tent. I bathed and then I explored a bit, and went back to the hotel for tea. I left again at about ten minutes to five, walked a few miles, got to the hotel for a latish dinner and then went back to camp to sleep.'

  'It seems to me that anybody who was watching your movements might have had some chance to formulate a plan of action. The most likely person to have done so would have been a member of the hotel staff, don't you think?'

  'Hopelessly unlikely, I would have said.'

  Dame Beatrice nodded approval. Then she said, 'All the same, I suppose some members of the staff have their free day on a Thursday? What about your Friday?'

  'Well, Friday was quite a bit different. I had breakfast at the hotel at about a quarter to nine, and then I walked into the village, collected Denis's postcard, bought cigarettes, fruit and some sweets, got back to the hotel in time for a drink before lunch and then, after lunch, I walked over the common and photographed some ponies and cattle and a couple of donkeys, I think. I suppose again I walked about seven miles altogether.'

  'Another two hours, I imagine, so that you would have been away from your tent for, roughly, what length of time?'

  'Roughly, for about three and a half hours plus an hour for lunch, plus the two hours' walking you've just mentioned.'

  'In other words, once you had left your camp in the morning, you did not return to it for at least six to seven hours.'

  'I suppose that's about right. At about a quarter to five I met a forester, not far from my camp, who showed me a badger's hole in the woods and I made up my mind to do a bit of badger-watching that night after dinner. So I did, but I had no luck with the badgers and got back to camp at about half-past eleven or so.'

  'So your tent was again empty from-?'

  'I don't know exactly. I cut out tea in favour of the walk and the forester, but, after dinner, that's to say, at about a quarter to eight, I went back to camp for a sweater and a torch, and so on.'

  'And you saw nobody near your tent?'

  'Not a soul. Of course, it was pretty dark then. All the way through, you see, there's very little proof that I spent my time in the way I say I did.'

  'Oh, nonsense!' said Dame Beatrice cheerfully. 'You'd be surprised how many people observe what others do and where they go. The world is populated quite largely by Peeping Toms. Oh, your name is Tom! Dear, dear!'

  'Do you think the Superintendent will charge me?'

  'I think nothing is more unlikely. What do you know about hydrocyanic acid, apart from what was said at the inquest?'

  'Wasn't it supplied to secret agents during the war in case they were afraid of being forced to give away information to the Nazis?'

  'Anything else?'

  'I did mention the stinks cupboard at Tuna House School.'

  'I must have a word with the Headmaster.'

  'Oily old brute!'

  'That sounds as though his manners are above the average. But we appear to have arrived at an unique village.'

  George pulled up.

  'You named no particular destination, madam,' he said, 'and Mrs Gavin and Mr Denis were particularly anxious to visit Buckler's Hard. Shall I see whether I can obtain permission from the car-park attendant to take the car down the slope, madam?'

  'No, no. We must not attempt to suborn an official who is on duty. Besides, I prefer to tour outlandish places on foot. One sees far more that way.'

  'I don't know that the inhabitants would care to hear their village called outlandish, madam,' said George, with a respectful smile.

  'But it is outlandish, in the very best sense of the word, George. You will observe that there is a vast expanse of water at the foot of the hill. How very fortunate we are to have struck a fine day for this excursion! Now Mrs Gavin will be able to show me a catamaran, I hope. She talks freely of twin hulls. You may meet us at Beaulieu, but I cannot say when. I believe we can walk to the abbey alongside the water. I see that Mrs Gavin and my grand-nephew have followed us here.'

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BUCKLER'S HARD

  'When will the steam be aweary of flowing

  Under my eye?

  When will the wind be aweary of blowing

  Over the sky?

  When will the clouds be aweary of fleeting?

  When will the heart be aweary of beating?

  And nature die?'

  Alfred, Lord Tennyson

  Once the party had left the two cars, Dame Beatrice annexed Laura, leaving the two young men free to wander together down the rough, steep road to the quay. The boys strolled on beside the water, but Dame Beatrice and Laura loitered. The sunshine, for that time of year, was particularly brilliant and there was more blue than cloud in the sky.

  Although it was fairly late in the season, a great many craft were still in commission and the scene was gay and pleasing. The Beaulieu River at this point was a quarter of a mile wide, with a deepish channel at the quay. The river here made a magnificent bend, and there were shallows by the opposite bank.

  Two catamarans, the double hulls referred to by Dame Beatrice, were drawn well up on the quay-side and she and Laura stopped to examine them.

  'I do not think I care about them, so far as looks are concerned,' commented Dame Beatrice. 'What are their particular assets, that you favour them so highly?'

  'To quote the book of words, they tack very fast, they're a safe, manoeuvrable sort of craft-you can even lift one hull completely out of the water and still keep going-and they are particularly sensitive to the helmsman. I rather agree with you about their looks, but I suppose they stem from the outrigger canoes that South Sea Islanders use.'

  'Yes, I see.'

  'They take sail, of course-quite a tall spread if you want to go really fast-and the masts are mostly of metal, the International type if you want a flyer. But, look here, Mrs. Croc, you didn't segregate me from the opposite sex just to talk about catamarans. Did you get anything interesting or important from young Tom Richardson during the car ride?'

  'I obtained a detailed account of how he spent his time down here before Denis joined him.'

  'Any good?'

  'I have not made up my mind. It appears to me that there was a good deal of time, when he was absent from his tent, in which ill-disposed persons could have...'

  'Wished the bodies on him?'

  'Exactly.'

  'But who would want to?'

  'By that, I infer that you are asking whether Mr Richardson has enemies.'

  'Well, yes, there's that, because I can't quite see the point of putting the bodies, one after the other, in his tent, unless there was some ill-feeling towards him. It would have been much simpler to have dumped them in the woods, the way Richardson and Denis found the second body, which was really, I suppose, the first body-or would you put it third?'

 

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