"The deceased Miss Logan," the doctor elaborated.
"... Whose body was planted in my closet," Marc completed angrily.
"That was a shame," the doctor sighed. "I'm truly sorry about all that, but it did seem the only thing to do at the time. I couldn't find you on the beach, so I had to make some hasty readjustments. You had to be gotten out of the way, and the woman's body had to be disposed of. What could be better than turning the whole problem over to the police? It all dove-tailed beautifully. After all, I have a very good reason for not wanting the police curious about my whereabouts."
"Just off hand," Marc said sourly, "I can't think of a better reason than murder. They're so apt to be high-handed about the thing."
"Exactly," the doctor agreed.
Toffee gazed disappointedly at the doctor's slight figure.
"Killers, nowadays," she murmured unhappily, "just aren't what they used to be. Maybe it's the shortages."
The doctor's eyes were heavy with exasperation as they turned toward her. "I do wish you weren't so preoccupied with murder," he said tiredly.
"You mean you're not?" Toffee returned quickly.
"Certainly not. I wouldn't have killed Mr. Epperson and Miss Logan if they hadn't forced me to. They got to prying into my private affairs, and I had to put an end to it somehow."