and they thought of this (perhaps rather childish) way of silencing her. The coincidence lies in the fact that the call should have been put through at exactly the same time as the fake shot from the wood. It led one to believe that the two must be connected.”
I suddenly remembered how everyone who spoke of that shot had described it as “different” from the usual shot. They had been right. Yet how hard to explain just in what way the “difference” of the shot consisted.
Colonel Melchett cleared his throat.
“Your solution is a very plausible one, Miss Marple,” he said. “But you will allow me to point out that there is not a shadow of proof.”
“I know,” said Miss Marple. “But you believe it to be true, don’t you?”
There was a pause, then the colonel said almost reluctantly:
“Yes, I do. Dash it all, it’s the only way the thing could have happened. But there’s no proof—not an atom.”
Miss Marple coughed.
“That is why I thought perhaps under the circumstances—”
“Yes?”
“A little trap might be permissible.”