‘That is the logical inference, and that is the clue to which I referred the other day. Under cover of the students’ activities I have verified that Mrs Whittier was not sick anywhere near that dip or on any direct or indirect line to it from the bungalow. Moreover, you will be interested to hear that even the Chief Constable seems impressed. There is something more to be discovered, or so he informs me, about these mysterious deaths. (Please note the plural.) I am afraid he sometimes jumps to conclusions.’

‘Do you think he suspects murder this time?’

‘Yes, but, of course, he is far too obstinate to say so.’

‘Has he got anyone in mind, I wonder?’

‘At present, no, child. Whom could he have in mind?’

‘Well, Tiny,’ said Jonathan baldly. ‘It’s a bit too much of a coincidence for two people in one small place to die under such peculiar circumstances. I mean, why should they?’

‘A reasonable question, child. But, of course, the after-Christmas weather was very severe. However, there seems little doubt that we’ve had two murders and that both were planned. I think they were quite well planned. The anonymous letters, as it happens, may have been rather a mistake, but one can’t foresee everything, and murderers are curiously fallible. On the other hand, we cannot rule out the possibility that there may be no real connection between the deaths and the letters, and there may be no connection, either, between the deaths. We may be looking for two criminals, not one; and there may be no murderer at all. We must, above all things, be open-minded. The furthest that the Chief Constable will go is to suggest suicide in both cases.’

‘I suppose Mrs Whittier knew something which Tiny was afraid she’d give away,’ said Jonathan, adhering to his own point of view.

‘I am not certain that we ought to bring Tiny Fullalove’s name into this, you know. There is no proof of anything wrong, so far as he was concerned, except the curious affair of those notes to Anstey.’

‘What do you call proof? Isn’t it enough that those two people have died for no obvious reason, and that both of them were directly connected with him?’

‘Perhaps, circumstantially, it is. But the Law is always amoral, and circumstances are often misleading.’

‘I thought that justice and morality were supposed to be the same thing.’

‘Then why bring in mercy to temper justice?’

‘Do you feel merciful?’

‘No,’ said Mrs Bradley decisively. ‘I do not. But neither do I feel myself to be the instrument of justice or the law. Revenge is my aim, in this instance.’

Her nephew looked as much taken aback as he felt.

‘Revenge for what?’ he enquired. Mrs Bradley eyed him solemnly.

‘I do not like thee, Doctor Fell;

The reason why I cannot tell,’

she answered briefly.

‘Meaning Tiny Fullalove, Aunt Adela?’