Busman’s Honeymoon

‘I’ll do that and welcome,’ said Mr Puffett.

‘And if you know where any of the others have gone, you might let me know.’

Mr Puffett promised readily that he would. They shook hands with him, and left him standing in the middle of the lane, cheerfully waving his bowler till the car had turned the corner.

They drove for five miles or so in silence. Then Peter said:

‘There’s a little architect who would make a good job of that bathroom extension. His name’s Thipps. He’s a common little blighter, but he has a very real feeling for period stuff. He did the church over at Duke’s Denver, and he and I got really friendly about thirteen years ago, when he was troubled with a corpse in his bathroom, I think I’ll send him a line.’

‘He sounds just right… You haven’t taken what Puffett calls a misliking to Talboys, then? I was afraid you might want to get rid of it.’

‘While I live,’ he said, ‘no owner but ourselves shall ever set foot in it.’

She was satisfied and said no more. They ran into London in time for di

Sir Impey Biggs extricated himself from his debate about midnight. He greeted Harriet with a cheerful friendliness, Peter as the lifelong friend and co

Although there had been no further discussion of the subject, it had somehow been taken for granted that there was now no more question of Harriet’s going to sleep with a friend or driving to Denver alone. After di

‘Well, well,’ said Sir Impey. ‘So you want me to tackle a defence for you. This business down in Hertfordshire, I suppose.’

‘Yes. I warn you beforehand you haven’t a very good case.’

‘Never mind. We’ve tackled some pretty hopeless jobs before now. With you on our side I know we can put up a good fight.’

‘I’m not, Biggy. I’m a witness for the prosecution.’

The K.C. whistled. ‘The devil you are. Then why are you briefing counsel for the prisoner? Conscience-money?’

‘More or less. It’s rather a rotten show altogether, and we’d like to do our best for the man. I mean to say, don’t you know-there we were, just married and every thing pleasant about us. And then this happens, and the local bobbies can make nothing of it. And we horn in, looking all silk-lined, and fasten the crime on a poor devil who hasn’t got a bean in the world and hasn’t done us any harm except dig the garden-Well, anyway, we’d like you to defend him.’

‘You’d better begin at the begi

Peter began at the begi

‘Well, Peter, you’re handing me a nice pup. Including the criminal’s own confession.’

‘He didn’t give that on oath. Shock-nerves-frightened into it by my unfair trick with the pot.’

‘Suppose he’s made it again to the police?’

‘Badgered into it by questions. Surely you’re not going to be worried by a little thing like that.’

‘There’s the chain and the hook and the lead in the pot.’

‘Who’s to say Crutchley put them there? They may have been part of one of old Noakes’s little games.’

‘And the watering of the cactus and wiping of the pot?’

‘Bagatelles! We’ve only the vicar’s opinion about the metabolism of cacti.’

‘Can you dispose of the motive, too?’

‘Motive doesn’t make a case.’

‘It does, for nine juries out of ten.’

‘Very well-several other people had motives.’

‘Your Twitterton woman, for instance. Had I better try to hint that she might have done it?’

‘If you fancy she’d have the wits to realise that a pendulum must always pass directly beneath its point of suspension.’

‘H’m!-By the way, supposing you people hadn’t turned up, what would have been the murderer’s next step? What did he think would happen?’

‘If Crutchley was the murderer?’

‘Well, yes. He must have expected the body would be found lying on the sittingroom floor by the next person who entered the house.’

‘I’ve thought that out. The next person to enter would, in the ordinary way, have been Miss Twitterton, who had the key. She was completely under his thumb. Remember, they used to meet in the evenings in Great Pagford churchyard. He’d have no difficulty in finding out whether she intended to go over at any time during the week to see her uncle. If she’d a

‘And suppose Noakes had come into the sittingroom between 6.20 and 9 o’clock?’

‘That was the risk. But old Noakes was “reg’lar as clockwork.” He had his supper at 7.30, The sun set at 6.38 and the room is low-windowed and darkish. At any time after 7 the chances were that he would notice nothing. But make what play you like with that.

‘He must have had a disagreeable morning the day you arrived,’ said Sir Impey. ‘Always supposing, of course, that this prosecution is justified. I wonder he made no efforts, after the crime was discovered, to get the chain removed.’

‘He did,’ said Harriet. ‘He came in three times while the furniture-movers were there; and made a quite determined effort to get me out of the room to investigate some ti

‘Ah!’ said Sir Impey. ‘And you’d be prepared to go into the box and swear to that. You don’t leave me much chance between you. If you’d had any consideration for me, Peter, you’d have married a less intelligent woman.’

‘I’m afraid I’ve been selfish about that. But you’ll take the case, Biggy, and do your best?’

‘To please you, I will. I shall enjoy cross-examining you. If you think of any awkward questions to put to yourself, let me know. Now be off with you. I’m getting old, and bed’s the place for me.’

‘So that’s that,’ said Peter. They stood on the pavement, shivering a little. It was nearly three in the morning and the air was sharp. ‘What now? Do we seek a hotel?’

(What was the right answer to that? He looked at once tired and restless-a state of body in which almost any answer is the wrong one. She decided to risk a bold shot.)

‘ How far is it to Duke’s Denver?’

‘Just over ninety miles-say ninety-five. Would you like to drive straight down? We could pick up the car and be out of Town by half-past three. I’d promise not to drive fast and you might be able to get a bit of sleep on the way.’