Chapter 6 Chapter Six

The matter of the alarm clock perplexed us, but we could not come up with anything. Griselda said I should try harder and tell Inspector Slack about it, but at this point I felt that Da could only be called "foolish."Inspector Slack is very rude, but I don't think he needs to be.I was waiting for an opportunity to embarrass him by bringing up my valuable leads.Then I will reproach in a mild tone: "Inspector Slack, if you just listen to me..." I also expected that he would at least speak to me before leaving the room, but, to our surprise, Mary informed us that he had left, and had locked the door of the study, with orders that no one should enter.

Griselda suggested that we go to the "old house" first. "Anne Protheroe is going to have a hard time—with the cops and all," she said. "Maybe there's something I can do for her." I wholeheartedly agree with this suggestion.So Griselda set off and said she would call me if she thought I could be of use to the two ladies or comfort them. Now, I started calling the Sunday school teachers who were scheduled to come in at 7:45 for their weekly lesson preparation.I think, under the circumstances, it would be best to postpone the matter. Then came Dennis, who had just returned from a tennis meeting.The fact that the murder took place in the Vicarage seemed to satisfy him.

"Think how interesting it is to be at the scene of a murder!" he said cheerfully. "I've always wanted to. What's the use of the police locking the study door? Don't the other keys work?" I will not allow any such attempt.Dennis backed down angrily.After questioning me about every possible detail, he went into the garden to look for footprints, and said cheerfully, "It's lucky that this happened to old Protheroe, whom everyone hates." His schadenfreude irritated me, but I thought maybe I was being too harsh on the kid.Detective stories are one of the best things in life at Dennis's age, and arguably the discovery of a true detective story with a dead body on one's own doorstep must have thrilled a boy in his right mind endlessly.A child of sixteen knows very little about death.

Griselda returned about an hour later.She saw Anne, Protheroe, after the Inspector had just informed Anne of the incident. Mrs. Protheroe told the Inspector that she had last seen her husband in the village at about a quarter to six, and that she had nothing else to offer.The inspector had no choice but to leave, and said that he would come back tomorrow for a more detailed questioning. "He is quite decent," Griselda said reluctantly. "How did Mrs. Protheroe react?" I asked. "Oh—she was very calm—and she's always been that way." "Yes," I said, "I cannot imagine Anne Protheroe becoming hysterical."

"Of course it was a shock to her. You understand that. She thanked me for visiting her and said she was grateful. But there was nothing I could do about it." "How's Lettice?" "She went to play tennis somewhere, and she hasn't come home yet." Griselda paused and continued: "Len, you know, she's very calm indeed—it's very strange." "It's shocking," I reminded. "Yes—I think so. Yet—" Griselda frowned in bewilderment. "It's kind of weird. She's not so much shocked as she is—oh—frightened."

"Fear?" "No—not showing it, you know. At least not trying to show it. But there was a strange, alert look in her eyes.I wondered if she might know exactly who did it.She repeatedly asked if anyone was under suspicion. " "Really?" I asked thoughtfully. "Yes. Of course Anne had great self-control, but I could see that she was very disturbed. More than I had expected, for she didn't seem to love him very much. As far as her feelings for him were concerned, I I'd say she rather dislikes him." "Death can sometimes change a person's feelings," I said.

"Yes, I think so." Dennis came in, looking elated.Because he just found a footprint in the flowerbed.He is sure the police ignored the footprint and says it must hold the key to solving the mystery. I have had no rest all night.Dennis got up, walked around, and walked out of the room to "study the latest developments" (as he put it) until breakfast time. Still, it was not he, but Mary who brought us the most startling news of the morning. We had just sat down to breakfast when she burst into the room, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and said to us in her usual impolite way:

"Do you believe it? The baker told me just now. They arrested young Mr. Redding." "Arrest Lawrence!" cried Griselda in bewilderment. "Impossible. It must be some kind of stupid mistake." "There's nothing wrong with that, ma'am," said Mary, in a tone of smug excitement. "Mr. Redding, he went there himself and confessed. It was all over last night. He went right in, and dropped the pistol on the table." and said, 'I did it.' That's what happened." She looked at both of us, nodded vigorously, and walked away, satisfied with the effect of her words.Griselda and I stared at each other in surprise.

"Oh! that's not true," said Griselda. "It can't be true." Noticing my silence, she said, "You don't think that's true, do you, Len?" I was speechless, just sat silently, but my mind was full of thoughts. "He must be crazy," said Griselda, "absolutely. Do you think they were looking at the pistol together and it went off?" "It's totally impossible for that to happen." "But it must be some accident. For there is no motive at all. What reason did Lawrence have for killing Colonel Protheroe?" I could have answered that question definitively, but I wanted to keep Anne Protheroe out of the case as much as possible.There is still a chance to keep her out of it.

"Remember when they had an argument?" I asked. "It was about Lettice and her bathrobe. Yeah, but that was ridiculous too. Even if he had an affair with Lettice—oh, that's no reason to kill her father. " "We don't know what the truth of the murder is, Griselda." "You think so, Len! Oh! How could you! I tell you, I'm sure Lawrence hasn't even touched a hair of his head." "Remember, I just bumped into him outside the gate. He looked like a madman." "Yes, but—oh! It's impossible." "And the alarm clock," I said, "that would account for the time difference of the alarm clock. Lawrence must have set the clock back to six-twenty to try to keep himself out of the matter. You see how Inspector Slack got caught. "

"You're wrong, Len. Laurence knew that the alarm clock was going fast. 'Tell the vicar not to miss it!' he used to say. He would never set the time to six-twenty-two, but he might. What time does the hand turn, say a quarter to seven." "Perhaps he didn't know in advance when Protheroe would be here, or he simply forgot that the clock was going fast." Griselda disagreed with me. "No, if you're going to plan a murder, you've got to be very calculating about things like that." "You won't know, my dear," I said gently, "you've never committed murder." Before Griselda could answer, a figure passed by the breakfast table, and a very gentle voice said: "I hope I have not disturbed you. You must forgive me for being an unexpected visitor. However, in this sad situation Under - very sad circumstances -" This is our neighbor Miss Marple.She accepted our polite greeting, and stepped in through the French windows.I pulled a chair beside her.Her face was reddish, and she looked quite excited. "It's dreadful, isn't it? Poor Colonel Protheroe. Not a well-liked man, perhaps, and not well known, but that doesn't make it any less sad. Indeed, I've heard, in the vicar Murdered in his study?" I say that is the case. "But the dear pastor wasn't there, was he?" Marple asked Griselda.I explained where I was. "Is Mr. Dennis with you this morning?" asked Miss Marple, looking around. "Dennis," said Griselda, "thought he was an amateur detective. He found a footprint in a flowerbed and was so excited that I think he reported it to the police." "Ah, ah," cried Miss Marple, "what a riot, isn't it? Mr. Dennis thinks he knows who committed the crime. Well, I think we all think we know who the murderer is." "You mean it's obvious?" Griselda asked. "No, my dear, I didn't mean that at all. I bet everyone thought it was someone else. So it's very important to have evidence. For example, I'm sure I know who committed this murder." .But, I must admit, I haven't found a trace. I know that at times like these one has to be careful with one's words—false accusation, isn't that what they call it? I've made up my mind, and with Inspector Slack Be very careful when you speak. He has sent word that he is coming to see me this morning, but now he has just called to say there is no need to come." "I guess, with this arrest, it won't be necessary," I said. "Arrest?" Miss Marple leaned forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "I don't know about the arrest." Miss Marple was rarely informed by us, so I took it for granted that she was kept abreast of the latest developments. "It seems we were talking about something different," I said. "Yes, there's an arrest—Lawrence Redding." "Laurence Redding?" Miss Marple seemed very surprised. "Now, I shouldn't think—" Grisel interrupted her sharply. "Even now, I can't believe it. If I don't believe it, I won't believe it even if he confesses." "Confession?" said Miss Marple. "You say he confessed? Oh! God, I don't see it now. I don't know--yes, don't know." "I can't help but think it must be some kind of accident," said Griselda. "Don't you think so, Len? I mean, from the fact that he came forward and voluntarily surrendered, it seems that way." .” Miss Marple moved forward eagerly. "You said he surrendered himself?" "yes." "Oh!" said Miss Marple, with another deep sigh. "I'm so happy—simply so happy." I looked at her with some surprise. "I think that shows genuine remorse," I said. "Confession?" Miss Marple looked very surprised. "Oh, but of course—you don't think him guilty, my dear clergyman?" This time it was my turn to be surprised. "But now that he's confessed—" "Yeah, but that just clears things up, doesn't it? I mean, he had nothing to do with it." "Yes," I said, "I may be a little dull, but I don't see what that proves. If you didn't commit the murder, I don't see any reason to pretend you did." "Oh, of course there is!" said Miss Marple. "Of course. There's always a reason, isn't there? Young people are hotheaded and tend to believe the worst." She turned to Griselda. "Don't you agree with me, dear?" "I—I don't know," said Griselda, "my head is in a mess. I don't see why Lawrence should be a complete fool." "If you saw the way he looked last night—" I began. "Tell me," said Miss Marple, and she listened attentively as I related my account of my return. When I had finished, she said, "I know I'm often a little slow to see the truth of things, but I really don't understand what you mean. I think that if a young man makes up his mind to take the life of his own kind evil thing, then, he wouldn't have looked panicked about it beforehand. It would have been a well-planned, ruthless operation, and while the murderer could have flustered a bit and made some small mistakes, I don't think he'd be caught up in it. The panic you describe. It's hard to put ourselves in that situation, but I can't imagine being in that situation." "We don't know the circumstances," I argued, "and if they had quarreled, they might have fired on the spur of the moment, and Lawrence might have been horrified. Indeed, I am inclined to think that this was the case at the time. " "Dear Mr. Claremont. I know there are many ways we tend to see things. But one has to respect the facts, doesn't he? Think, things will go as you self-righteously explain.Your daughter made it very clear that Mr Redding was only in the room for a few minutes, which was obviously not enough time for a quarrel.Also, I know the Colonel was shot in the back of the head while writing a letter - at least that's what my maid told me. " "Exactly," said Griselda, "he seemed to be writing a note saying he couldn't wait any longer. The time on the note was six-twenty, but the clock on the desk had been knocked over and the hands were at six." It stopped at twenty-two, and it was this that both Lun and myself were so puzzled about." She explained our habit of setting clocks forward a quarter of an hour. "Very strange," said Miss Marple, "very strange indeed. But I think the note thing is even stranger. I mean—" She stopped and glanced around.Lettice Protheroe was standing outside the window.She came in and nodded to us.The voice said vaguely: "Good morning." She sat down in a chair, and said in a more spirited tone than usual: "I heard they arrested Lawrence." "Yes," said Griselda, "that surprised us." "It really never occurred to me that anyone would murder my father," Lettice said.She showed no sign of panic or sadness, and she was clearly proud of it. "I believe that many people want to do that. Sometimes I want to do it myself." "What would you like to eat or drink, Lettice?" Griselda asked. "No thanks. I was just wandering around to see if you picked up my beret here—a queer little yellow hat. I think I left it in the study one day." "If so, the hat would still be there," said Griselda. "Mary never packs anything." "Then I'll go and see," said Lettice, standing up. "Sorry to bother you, but I seem to have lost something else in the slit of the hat." "I'm afraid you can't go into the study now," I said. "Inspector Slack has locked the room." "Oh, what a nuisance! Can't we get in through the window?" "I'm afraid not. The door is bolted from the inside. Of course, Lettice, a yellow beret won't be of much use to you just now, will it?" "You mean the funeral and all that? I don't bother about funerals. I think it's a very old-fashioned idea. The Lawrence thing is annoying too--yes, very annoying!" She stood up, frowning, lost in thought. "I thought, it's all about me and my bathrobe. So stupid, the whole thing..." Griselda opened her mouth to say something, but for some reason shut it down again. A queer smile formed the corner of Lettice's mouth. "I think," she said softly, "I'm going home and telling Anne Lawrence about the arrest." She went out the window again.Griselda turned to Miss Marple. "Why did you step on my foot?" The old lady smiled slightly. "My dear, I think you're going to say something. It's always better to let things take their course. You know, I think the kid pretends to be confused, but she's far from being so. She must have a well-thought-out plan and act according to her ideas. " Mary knocked loudly on the dining room door and burst in. "What's the matter?" Griselda asked. "Mary, you must remember not to knock again. I told you before." "I thought you might be busy," said Mary. "Colonel Melchett has arrived. To see the master." Colonel Melchett is the county police chief.I immediately got up and met. "I thought you wouldn't like me telling him to wait in the hall, so I invited him into the living room," continued Mary. "Shall I clear the dining room table?" "Not yet," said Griselda, "I'll ring the bell." She turned to Miss Marple and I left the room.