"He's an extraordinary man," said Bundle. "I want to tell you about last night."
She retailed her conversation with the Superintendent. Jimmy listened attentively.
"So the Countess is No. 1," he said thoughtfully. "It all hangs together very well. No. 2—Bauer—comes over from Chimneys. He climbs up into O'Rourke's room, knowing that O'Rourke has had a sleeping draught administered to him—by the Countess somehow or other. The arrangement is that he is to throw down the papers to the Countess, who will be waiting below. Then she'll nip back through the library and up to her room. If Bauer's caught leaving the grounds, they'll find nothing on him. Yes, it was a good plan—but it went wrong. No sooner is the Countess in the library than she hears me coming and has to jump behind the screen. Jolly awkward for her, because she can't warn her accomplice. No. 2 pinches the papers, looks out of the window, sees, as he thinks, the Countess waiting, pitches the papers down to her and proceeds to climb down the ivy, where he finds a nasty surprise in the shape of me waiting for him. Pretty nervy work for the Countess waiting behind her screen. All things considered, she told a pretty good story. Yes, it all hangs together very well."
"Too well," said Bundle decidedly.
"Eh?" said Jimmy, surprised.
"What about No. 7—No. 7, who never appears, but lives in the background. The Countess and Bauer? No, it's not so simple as that. Bauer was here last night, yes. But he was only here in case things went wrong—as they have done. His part is the part of scapegoat; to draw all attention from No. 7—the boss."
"I say, Bundle," said Jimmy anxiously, "you haven't been reading too much sensational literature, have you?"
Bundle threw him a glance of dignified reproach.
"Well," said Jimmy, "I'm not yet like the Red Queen. I can't believe six impossible things before breakfast."
"It's after breakfast," said Bundle.