Abby turned her candid gaze upon Gavin, and spoke with paralysing frankness. “Definitely unfunny,” she said. “Why don't you try to find out who really did it, instead of making up fantastic stories about people who couldn't possibly have done it? You ought to be able to: you write awfully clever thrillers. I haven't read any of them myself, actually, but that's what everyone says.”
“Attagirl!” said Charles admiringly.
“What a low, nasty backhander!” remarked Gavin. “I shall ignore it. When I write my clever thrillers, ducky, I have the advantage of knowing from the start who did the murder. In fact, I know who is going to do it. It makes quite a difference, and serves to show how depressingly unlike life is fiction. My suspects all have lovely motives, too. You never met such a set of crooks as I can (and do) assemble in one restricted scene. Why, I once wrote a good stabbing-mystery set in a village just like this, and even the verger turned out to have the murkiest kind of past! The people of Thornden are too respectable for me. I won't say dull, leaving that to be inferred.”
“Would you describe yourself as dull, sir?” enquired Hemingway. “It isn't the word I'd have chosen.”
“No, or respectable either, but when I tried to cast myself for the role of chief suspect I met with nothing but discouragement. The Sergeant even snubbed me. I wonder that beer isn't choking you, Sergeant.”
“What you did, sir, if you'll pardon me saying so, was to try to pull my leg,” retorted the Sergeant.
“Not at all. As an amateur of crime, I felt I ought to be the culprit. Now, don't, anybody, talk to me of that Pole, said to be walking out with Mother's-good-girl! Any student of crime knows that the guilty man is never the mysterious foreigner. Besides, he's so obvious! If I can't have myself or Mrs. Midgeholme, I'll have the Squire, I think.”
“Here, I say! Draw it mild!” protested Charles.
“It's silly,” said Abby flatly. “He's just about the most unlikely person you could possibly think of.”
“He is quite the most unlikely person I can think of,” Gavin corrected her. “Therein lies his charm. I am not interested in the obvious. Have another pint, Chief Inspector!”