“Do you know, Joan, I’m half inclined to believe that neither of them was really seen then at all. What I mean is, they may both have been dead by half-past eleven. Suppose they were neither of them seen. Yes, and by Jove, that would get rid of one difficulty. I’ve never been able to see how George got back into the grounds after the place was all locked up. But suppose he didn’t have to get back at all, because he never went out. Then the man who went out, and was mistaken for George, would be the murderer. Joan, aren’t you listening?”
“Yes, Bob, I heard what you said, and I half think you’re right. I was thinking of that telephone message.”
“Why, what about it?”
“What I mean is, if that message was sent with the object of shifting the suspicion on to some one else, isn’t it more likely to have been sent after, than before, the murders?”
“You’re right. At least, it was probably sent after one of them. There’s no necessary reason to suppose that they were both done at the same time. We don’t even know that the same man did them.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Two murders in one night is bad enough; but to ask me to believe in two different murderers is too much of a strain on my credulity.”
“Then you don’t think Prinsep killed George?” Ellery asked.
“No, I’m nearly sure he didn’t. It isn’t, I’m afraid, dear, that I don’t think he was morally capable of it. I simply feel sure he wouldn’t have been such a fool.”
“Not even if George had told what he thought of him about Charis Lang? They’d both probably have lost their tempers pretty badly.”
“No, Bob, not even then. At least I’m nearly sure. I’m convinced there was only one murderer. Remember they were both killed the same way.”