“What does he say he was doing?”
The Sergeant consulted his notes. “He states that he let himself into the house, and went straight upstairs, and had a shower. Which he might have done, because he's got one of those old-fashioned baths with a shower fixed up at one end of it. After that, he went out into the garden to water his flowers. According to his story, that was . . . what he was doing when the housekeeper sounded the gong for his supper. She states that she had to sound it twice, him not hearing it the first time.”
“Where was the housekeeper all this time?”
“Between the kitchen and the dining-room, getting supper ready, and laying the table. The dining-room's at the front of the house, and the kitchen's behind it, at the back. There's a pantry between the two, with communicating doors. She states that she always goes from one room to the other through the pantry, which would account for her not having seen Mr. Drybeck. What I mean is, she never went into the hall during that half-hour, so there was no reason why she should have seen him.”
“If the kitchen's at the back doesn't it overlook the garden?”
“No, sir, not properly speaking. There's just a bit of ground outside the kitchen-window, like a gravel-yard, and then there's a laurel-hedge, shutting off the kitchen from the garden.”
“Nice, cheerful look-out,” commented Hemingway, his eyes on the plan. “So what it boils down to is that from about seven o'clock to seven-thirty this Mr. Drybeck might have been anywhere. If this plan of yours is accurate, I make it under half a mile from his place to Fox House.”
“Yes, sir. He'd have had to pass Miss Patterdale's cottage, of course.”
“Any reason why he shouldn't have walked across this common?”
“He could have done that,” admitted the Sergeant.