“Yes,” said the detective doubtfully. “She does.”
“Let us attempt to reconstruct the crime with her as the person who fired the shot,” continued Crewe. “Mrs. Grange was to hold a séance at the farmhouse about 6 p. m. Lumsden, Brett and this girl were to be present. Lumsden walked along the road to Staveley in the expectation of meeting Brett, who was to drive over in a motor-car. Miss Maynard, who was a good walker, set out from Ashlingsea. She left early in the afternoon, in the expectation that Brett would be at the farmhouse early. She found no one there and then set out along the Staveley road to meet Brett. He was late in starting from Staveley, and she met Lumsden, who, perhaps, was returning along the road. They decided to sit down for a little while and wait for Brett. Lumsden, who was in love with her, was overcome by passion, and seized her in his arms. There was a struggle in which the revolver that Lumsden carried fell out of his belt. She picked it up and in desperation shot him. A few minutes later Brett arrived in his car. He was horrified at what had occurred but his first thought was to save the girl he loved from the consequences of her act. He lifted the body of Lumsden into the car, and with Miss Maynard beside him on the front seat, drove to the farmhouse. She waited in the car while he carried the body into the house, and took steps for giving the impression that Lumsden was shot by some one who broke into the house. Then he went back to the car, and after giving the girl his final directions bade her a tender farewell. She entered the house and waited in accordance with the plan Brett had thought out. She expected the Granges to arrive at any moment; she did not know they were hiding upstairs. Brett’s plan was that she and the Granges should discover the body. That would clear her of suspicion of complicity in the tragedy. Marsland came to the house, and for Miss Maynard’s purpose he suited her better than the Granges because he took on himself the discovery of the body and, at her request, kept her name out of it to the police. Brett disappeared that night, ostensibly on secret service work. His object was to shield his fiancée by directing suspicion to himself.”
“I don’t think Brett is capable of such chivalry,” said Marsland.
“It is a very ingenious theory, very ingenious, indeed,” said Gillett. “I don’t say that it is absolutely correct, Mr. Crewe, but the reconstruction is very clever. What do you say, Westaway?”
“Very ingenious—very clever,” said the Sergeant. “Only it is no good asking me to believe that Miss Maynard did it; I could never bring myself to believe that she was capable of it. I have known her since she was a little girl. She is the daughter of a highly respected——”
“We know all about that,” said Gillett impatiently. “But lots of highly respectable people commit murder, Westaway. Even among the criminal classes there are no professional murderers. I’ll see this young lady in the morning, Mr. Crewe, and let you know the result. I think I can promise that I’ll shake the truth out of her.”
CHAPTER XXI
Detective Gillett cycled across to Ashlingsea the following morning, after spending the night in Staveley as the guest of Inspector Murchison. The morning was clear, the downs were fresh and green beneath a blue sky, and the sea lapped gently at the foot of the cliffs. In the bay the white sails of several small boats stood out against the misty horizon. But Detective Gillett saw none of these things. His mind was too busily engaged in turning over the latest aspects of the Cliff Farm case to be susceptible to the influences of nature.
He reached Ashlingsea after an hour’s ride and decided to call on Miss Maynard before going to the police station. The old stone house and its grounds lay still and clear in the morning sun. The carriage gates were open and Gillett cycled up the winding gravel drive. The house looked silent and deserted, but the shutters which protected the front windows were unclosed, and a large white peacock strutting on the lawn in front of the house uttered harsh cries at the sight of the man on a bicycle.