poor lady said before she died. Sir Arthur has been very hard to convince.”
“I can’t believe,” said the other, “and I won’t believe, that Bingo Hale ever hurt a hair on Vere’s head.”
Inspector Marriot went on.
“We’ve made some progress since last night, Mrs. Beresford,” he said. “First of all we managed to identify the lady as Lady Merivale. We communicated with Sir Arthur here. He recognised the body at once, and was horrified beyond words, of course. Then I asked him if he knew anyone called Bingo.”
“You must understand, Mrs. Beresford,” said Sir Arthur, “that Captain Hale, who is known to all his friends as Bingo, is the dearest pal I have. He practically lives with us. He was staying at my house when they arrested him this morning. I cannot but believe that you have made a mistake—it was not his name that my wife uttered.”
“There is no possibility of mistake,” said Tuppence gently. “She said ‘Bingo did it—’ ”
“You see, Sir Arthur,” said Marriot.
The unhappy man sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands.
“It’s incredible. What earthly motive could there be? Oh! I know your idea, Inspector Marriot. You think Hale was my wife’s lover, but even if that were so—which I don’t admit for a moment—what motive was there for killing her?”
Inspector Marriot coughed.
“It’s not a very pleasant thing to say, sir. But Captain Hale has been paying a lot of attention to a certain young American lady of late—a