Colonel Melchett is a dapper little man with a habit of snorting
suddenly and unexpectedly. He has red hair and rather keen, bright-blue
eyes.
"Good morning, Vicar," he said. "Nasty business, eh? Poor old
Protheroe. Not that I liked him. I didn't. Nobody did for that matter.
Nasty bit of work for you, too. Hope it hasn't upset your Missus?"
I said Griselda had taken it very well.
"That's lucky. Rotten thing to happen in one's house. I must say
I'm surprised at young Redding--doing it the way he did. No sort of
consideration for anyone's feelings."
A wild desire to laugh came over me, but Colonel Melchett evidently saw
nothing odd in the idea of a murderer being considerate, so I held my
peace.
"I must say I was rather taken aback when I heard the fellow had
marched in and given himself up," continued Colonel Melchett, dropping
on to a chair.
"How did it happen, exactly?"
"Last night. About ten o'clock. Fellow rolls in, throws down a pistol
and says, 'Here I am. I did it.' Just like that."
"What account does he give of the business?"
"Precious little. He was warned, of course, about making a statement.
But he merely laughed. Said he came here to see you--found Protheroe
here. They had words and he shot him. Won't say what the quarrel was
about. Look here, Clement--just between you and me--do you know
anything about it? I've heard rumours--about his being forbidden the
house and all that. What was it--did he seduce the daughter, or what?
We don't want to bring the girl into it more than we can help, for
everybody's sake. Was that the trouble?"
"No," I said. "You can take it from me that it was something quite
different, but I can't say more at the present juncture."
He nodded and rose.
"I'm glad to know. There's a lot of talk. Too many women in this part
of the world. Well, I must get along. I've got to see Haydock. He was
called out to some case or other, but he ought to be back by now. I
don't mind telling you I'm sorry about Redding. He always struck me as
a decent young chap. Perhaps they'll think out some kind of defence for
him. Aftereffects of War, shell shock, or something. Especially if no
very adequate motive turns up. I must be off. Like to come along?"
I said I would like to very much, and we went out together.
Haydock's house is next door to mine. His servant said the doctor had
just come in, and showed us into the dining room, where Haydock was
sitting down to a steaming plate of eggs and bacon.
He greeted us with an amiable nod.
"Sorry I had to go out. Confinement case. I've been up most of the
night, over your business. I've got the bullet for you."
He shoved a little box along the table. Melchett examined it.
".25?"
Haydock nodded.
"I'll keep the technical details for the inquest," he said. "All you
want to know is that death was practically instantaneous. Silly young
fool, what did he want to do it for? Amazing, by the way, that nobody
heard the shot."
"Yes," said Melchett; "that surprises me."
"The kitchen window gives on the other side of the house," I said.
"With the study door, the pantry door, and the kitchen door all shut, I
doubt if you would hear anything, and there was no one but the maid in
the house."
"H'm," said Melchett. "It's odd, all the same. I wonder the old
lady--what's her name--Marple didn't hear it. The study window was
open."
"Perhaps she did," said Haydock.
"I don't think she did," said I. "She was over at the Vicarage just
now and she didn't mention anything of the kind, which I'm certain she
would have done if there had been anything to tell."
"May have heard it and paid no attention to it--thought it was a car
backfiring."
It struck me that Haydock was looking much more jovial and
good-humoured this morning. He seemed like a man who was decorously
trying to subdue unusually good spirits.
"Or what about a silencer?" he added. "That's quite likely. Nobody
would hear anything then."
Melchett shook his head.
"Slack didn't find anything of the kind, and he asked Redding, and
Redding didn't seem to know what he was talking about at first, and
then denied point-blank using anything of the kind. And I suppose one
can take his word for it."
"Yes, indeed, poor devil."
"Damned young fool," said Colonel Melchett. "Sorry, Clement. But he
really is! Somehow one can't get used to thinking of him as a murderer."
"Any motive?" asked Haydock, taking a final draught of coffee and
pushing back his chair.
"He says they quarrelled, and he lost his temper and shot him."
"Hoping for manslaughter, eh?" The doctor shook his head. "That story
doesn't hold water. He stole up behind him as he was writing and shot
him through the head. Precious little 'quarrel' about that."
"Anyway, there wouldn't have been time for a quarrel," I said,
remembering Miss Marple's words. "To creep up, shoot him, alter the
clock hands back to 6.22, and leave again would have taken him all his
time. I shall never forget his face when I met him outside the gate, or
the way he said, 'You want to see Protheroe--Oh! you'll see him all
right!' That in itself ought to have made me suspicious of what had
just taken place a few minutes before."
Haydock stared at me.
"What do you mean--what had just taken place? When do you think Redding
shot him?"
"A few minutes before I got to the house."
The doctor shook his head.
"Impossible. Plumb impossible. He'd been dead much longer than that."
"But, my dear man," cried Colonel Melchett. "You said yourself that
half an hour was only an approximate estimate."
"Half an hour, thirty-five minutes, twenty-five minutes, twenty
minutes--possibly, but less, no. Why, the body would have been warm
when I got to it."
We stared at each other. Haydock's face had changed. It had gone
suddenly gray and old. I wondered at the change in him.
"But look here, Haydock." The Colonel found his voice. "If Redding
admits shooting him at a quarter to seven--"
Haydock sprang to his feet.
"I tell you it's impossible," he roared. "If Redding says he killed
Protheroe at a quarter to seven, then Redding lies. Hang it all, I tell
you I'm a doctor, and I know. The blood had begun to congeal."
"If Redding is lying--" began Melchett. He stopped, shook his head.
"We'd better go down to the police station and see him," he said.