‘I want to borrow your typewriter for a few moments,’ she said to a surprised but welcoming Miss Hughes. ‘And if you’ve an odd crust that you can spare, I shall be glad of it.’

Fortified with sandwiches and coffee, Mrs Bradley took leave of Miss Hughes at half-past nine, and, having inspected and loaded her little revolver, set out to walk to Tiny Fullalove’s bungalow. She went by way of the village, and got there in less than twenty minutes by walking fast. Arrived there, she found it, as she had expected, still tenanted, but at the end of five minutes Tiny came out and set off in the direction of the Spinney.

Mrs Bradley went up to the front door and pinned her typed slip just beneath the knocker. To her satisfaction the white paper could be seen quite easily against the dark paint. It bore the legend, in capitals:

GROANING SPINNEY

She retired to the shadows and waited. By half-past ten she decided to give up her vigil. It was evident that Emming was not coming. She supposed that after all he had gone to see his wife before he returned to his lodgings, and she wondered what kind of reception he would get after the Inspector’s visit. She went quickly back to the village. ‘I want you to come with me,’ she said, when she had knocked at the policeman’s door. ‘And be quick. I think we may be too late already.’

Police-constable Mayhew had finished his supper and had, in point of fact, taken off his boots and his tunic preparatory to going to bed. He resumed them, told his wife, who was already upstairs, that he was going out on a job for the squire, and accompanied Mrs Bradley to the lonely cottage beyond the long barrow.

The cottage lamp was still alight and the front door was wide open. In the room immediately within were the bodies of Emming and his wife.

‘She must have shot him as he opened the door,’ said the constable, looking with bovine interest at the corpses. ‘And then put the gun under ’er ’eart.’ He examined the gun. It was the one belonging to Will North which had been stolen. The constable recognized it directly. ‘You better go for Doctor Fielding, mam, while I stays ’ere and keeps guard.’

‘I wonder she knew how to load it,’ said Mrs Bradley.

‘It’s easy enough, once you’re showed. I wonder what in ’eaven’s name made ’er do it?’