"'Inside the gate the carriage-way went straight for a little and then divided in two into a circle up to the— "
Kevin's shout of laughter stopped him. It was an abrupt monosyllable of amused triumph.
"You see?" Marion said into the sudden silence.
"Yes," Kevin said softly, his pale bright eyes gloating on the view. "That was something she didn't reckon with."
Robert moved over as Marion gave way to let him have her place, and so saw what they were talking about. The edge of the roof with its small parapet cut off the view of the courtyard before the carriage-way branched at all. No one imprisoned in that room would know about the two half circles up to the doorway.
"You see," Marion said, "the Inspector read that description when we were all in the drawing-room. And all of us knew that the description was accurate. I mean, an accurate picture of what the courtyard is like; so we unconsciously treated it as something that was finished with. Even the Inspector. I remember his looking at the view from the window but it was quite an automatic gesture. It didn't occur to any of us that it would not have been as described. Indeed, except for one tiny detail it was as described."
"Except for one tiny detail," Kevin said. "She arrived in darkness and fled in darkness, and she says she was locked in the room all the time, so she could have known nothing of that branching drive. What does she say, again, about her arrival, Rob?"
Robert looked it up and read:
"'The car stopped at last and the younger woman, the one with the black hair, got out and pushed open big double gates on to a drive. Then she got back in and drove the car up to a house. No, it was too dark to see what kind of a house, except that it had steps up to the door. No, I don't remember how many steps; four or five, I think. Yes, definitely a small flight of them. And then she goes on about being taken to the kitchen for coffee."
"So," Kevin said. "And her account of her flight? What time of night was that?"