It was apparent that Abby, Charles, and Inspector Harbottle were all wrestling with an unspoken problem. It was Harbottle who first reached a conclusion. “Earlier!” he said.
“No, she's right,” said Charles. “Later!”
“Wait a bit!” commanded Abby. “Do we put the clocks on, or back?”
“Go on, Horace!” said Hemingway encouraging. “Which?”
“On,” said Charles positively. “So if the Church clock says 6.15, it's really 7.15. By summertime, I mean. So Mrs. Midgeholme is right.”
“Well, I'm glad we've settled that point,” said Hemingway. “But I don't myself see that old boy making any mistake about opening-time. Not but what I'm very grateful to Mrs. Midgeholme for the trouble she's taken. I shall have to be getting along now, but—”
“What, don't you want to hear the rest of our theories?” said Charles, shocked. “I've worked out a very classy one; Miss Dearham has proved hers up to the hilt; Gavin Plenmeller's latest proves he did it, but it's too ingenious; the Squire has practically settled that the murder was committed by—”
“What, has the Squire gone in for detection too?” demanded Hemingway.
“Of course he has! Everyone in Thornden has! The Squire's idea is that the murderer was a Bellingham-man, who came out by car or motor-cycle, hid same in his gravel-pit, and then lay up in the gorse-bushes until the right moment.”
“And what's your own theory, sir?”