"And Mrs. Simmons is Mrs. Simmons?"
"She's been Mrs. Simmons for a very long time, that's all I can say," said Rydesdale dryly.
"That seems clear enough.
Only - those two fitted.
Right age. Not known to Miss Blacklog, personally. If we wanted Pip and Emma - well, there they were."
The Chief Constable nodded thoughtfully, then he pushed across a paper to Craddock.
"Here's a little something we've dug up on Mrs. Easterbrook."
The Inspector read with lifted eyebrows.
"Very interesting," he remarked.
"Hoodwinked that old ass pretty well, hasn't she?
It doesn't tie in with this business though, as far as I can see."
"Apparently not."
"And here's an item that concerns Mrs. Haymes."
Again Craddock's eyebrows rose.
"I think I'll have another talk with the lady," he said.
"You think this information might be relevant?"
"I think it might be.
It would be a long shot, of course..."
The two men were silent for a moment or two.
"How has Fletcher got on, sir?"
"Fletcher has been exceedingly active.
He's made a routine search of the house by agreement with Miss Blacklog - but he didn't find anything significant.
Then he's been checking up on who could have had the opportunity of oiling that door.
Checking who was up at the house on the days that that foreign girl was out.
A little more complicated than we thought, because it appears she goes for a walk most afternoons.
Usually down to the village where she has a cup of coffee at the Bluebird.
So that when Miss Blacklog and Miss Bunner are out - which is most afternoons - they go blackberrying - the coast is clear."
"And the doors are always left unlocked?"
"They used to be.
I don't suppose they are now."
"What are Fletcher's results?
Who's known to have been in the house when it was left empty?"
"Practically the whole lot of them."
Rydesdale consulted a page in front of him.
"Miss Murgatroyd was there with a hen to sit on some eggs. (Sounds complicated but that's what she says.) Very flustered about it all and contradicts herself, but Fletcher thinks that's temperamental and not a sign of guilt."
"Might be," Craddock admitted.
"She flaps."
"Then Mrs. Swettenham came up to fetch some horse meat that Miss Blacklog had left for her on the kitchen table, because Miss Blacklog had been in to Milchester in the car that day and always gets Mrs. Swettenham's horse meat for her.
That makes sense to you?"
Craddock considered.
"Why didn't Miss Blacklog leave the horse meat when she passed Mrs. Swettenham's house on her way back from Milchester?"
"I don't know, but she didn't.
Mrs. Swettenham says she (Miss B.) always leaves it on the kitchen table, and she (Mrs. S.) likes to fetch it when Mitzi isn't there because Mitzi is sometimes so rude."
"Hangs together quite well.
And the next?"
"Miss Hinchliffe.
Says she wasn't there at all lately.
But she was.
Because Mitzi saw her coming out of the side door one day and so did a Mrs. Butt (she's one of the locals).
Miss H. then admitted she might have been there but had forgotten.