"That's what I mean to find out," said Craddock grimly.
He thought -
"X from outside?
No - X was here - in this house - X was in the drawing-room that night..."
Chapter 10 PIP AND EMMA
Miss Blacklog listened to him this time with more attention.
She was an intelligent woman, as he had known, and she grasped the implications of what he had to tell her.
"Yes," she said quietly. "That does alter things... No one had any right to meddle with that door.
Nobody has meddled with it to my knowledge."
"You see what it means," the Inspector urged. "When the lights went out, anybody in this room the other night could have slipped out of that door, come up behind Rudi Scherz and fired at you."
"Without being seen or heard or noticed?"
"Without being seen or heard or noticed.
Remember when the lights went out people moved, exclaimed, bumped into each other.
And after that all that could be seen was the blinding light of the electric torch."
Miss Blacklog said slowly, "And you believe that one of those people - one of my nice commonplace neighbours - slipped out and tried to murder me?
Me? But why?
For goodness' sake, why?"
"I've a feeling that you must know the answer to that question, Miss Blacklog."
"But I don't, Inspector.
I can assure you, I don't."
"Well, let's make a start.
Who gets your money if you were to die?"
Miss Blacklog said rather reluctantly:
"Patrick and Julia.
I've left the furniture in this house and a small annuity to Bunny.
Really, I've not much to leave.
I had holdings in German and Italian securities which became worthless, and what with taxation, and the lower percentages that are now paid on invested capital, I can assure you I'm not worth murdering - I put most of my money into an annuity about a year ago."
"Still, you have some income, Miss Blacklog, and your nephew and niece would come into it."
"And so Patrick and Julia would plan to murder me?
I simply don't believe it.
They're not desperately hard up or anything like that."
"Do you know that for a fact?"
"No.
I suppose I only know it from what they've told me... But I really refuse to suspect them.
Someday I might be worth murdering, but not now."
"What do you mean by someday you might be worth murdering, Miss Blacklog?" Inspector Craddock pounced on the statement.
"Simply that one day - possibly quite soon - I may be a very rich woman."
"That sounds interesting.
Will you explain?"
"Certainly.
You may not know it, but for more than twenty years I was secretary to and closely associated with Randall Goedler."
Craddock was interested.
Randall Goedler had been a big name in the world of finance.
His daring speculations and the rather theatrical publicity with which he surrounded himself had made him a personality not quickly forgotten.
He had died, if Craddock remembered rightly, in 1937 or 1938.
"He's rather before your time, I expect," said Miss Blacklog.
"But you've probably heard of him."
"Oh, yes.
He was a millionaire, wasn't he?"
"Oh, several times over - though his finances fluctuated.