‘Not that anything more is likely to come out about the deaths,’ said Jonathan, gloomily. ‘It seems to me that the police are entirely lost. I don’t know whether they’ll call in Scotland Yard. I should almost think they would, as Mrs Dalby Whittier was really a London woman. But apart from the murder, which I suppose will be solved sooner or later, I still wish we could lay this anonymous letter-writer by the heels.’

‘I still think it must be somebody in the village,’ said Deborah, ‘but I do wish I knew what you two were talking about the other day. I’ve racked my brains over and over, and I still can’t imagine—’

‘That’s because you’re prejudiced,’ said Jonathan. ‘Mind you, with regard to this last letter to Aunt Adela, well, Obury or Mansell would be certain to mention that they had met her. That widens the thing out a good deal, because they’ve heaps of acquaintances, I expect, because of their jobs. They must belong to societies.’

‘Yes, that might account for the last anonymous letter,’ agreed Deborah, ‘but it doesn’t account for the others. We know that the first letter came from Mrs Dalby Whittier, and the others may have come from Tiny Fullalove, but, if they did – and I still can’t see Tiny as an anonymous scribe – would he be likely to use the word? I shouldn’t have thought that even the Authorized Version of the Psalms was in his memory, let alone the older form. What do you say, Aunt Adela?’

‘I am on the point of departure,’ Mrs Bradley replied. ‘You had better work it out for yourself.’

‘But I haven’t a clue,’ complained Deborah.

‘Oh, yes, you have. It was you who put your finger on the spot. It had nothing to do with the vicar, so you ought to be able to—’

‘But I don’t want to!’ said Deborah, turning very pale. ‘It can’t be what I think?’

‘Oh, yes, it is,’ said Mrs Bradley, nodding solemnly. ‘Don’t be afraid of the truth.’

‘I wish you would tell me what you’re both talking about,’ said Jonathan, glancing from one to the other. ‘Aren’t we still referring to Robert Emming?’

‘Yes, of course we are,’ said Mrs Bradley.

After one startled stare, Jonathan laughed heartily. Deborah joined in. Mrs Bradley cackled.

‘Well, if that’s the best you can do,’ said her nephew, ‘you can keep your word-associations for your text-books! In any case, if you and Deb and I could work that one out, couldn’t the anonymous letter-writer?’

‘Now that is a thought!’ agreed his aunt. Deborah looked dubious.

‘It’s rather – subtle,’ she said.