“Do you mean you haven’t told him about that clock yet?”
“What about the clock, Clement?”
I told him. He showed a good deal of annoyance.
“Why on earth didn’t you tell Slack this last night?”
“Because,” I said, “he wouldn’t let me.”
“Nonsense, you ought to have insisted.”
“Probably,” I said, “Inspector Slack behaves quite differently to you than he does to me. I had no earthly chance of insisting.”
“It’s an extraordinary business altogether,” said Melchett. “If a third person comes along and claims to have done this murder, I shall go into a lunatic asylum.”
“If I might be allowed to suggest—” murmured Miss Marple.
“Well?”
“If you were to tell Mr. Redding what Mrs. Protheroe has done and then explain that you don’t really believe it is her. And then if you were to go to Mrs. Protheroe and tell her that Mr. Redding is all right—why then, they might each of them tell you the truth. And the truth is helpful, though I dare say they don’t know very much themselves, poor things.”
“It’s all very well, but they are the only two people who had a motive for making away with Protheroe.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Colonel Melchett,” said Miss Marple.
“Why, can you think of anyone else?”