‘Family solidarity,’ said Julia. ‘I suddenly realized who you were. I’d had no idea till that moment.’

‘I’d had the same idea as Julia did,’ said Phillipa, her voice trembling a little. ‘After I-lost my husband and the war was over, I wondered what I was going to do. My mother died many years ago. I found out about my Goedler relations. Mrs Goedler was dying and at her death the money would go to a Miss Blacklock. I found out where Miss Blacklock lived and I-I came here. I took a job with Mrs Lucas. I hoped that, since this Miss Blacklock was an elderly woman without relatives, she might, perhaps, be willing to help. Not me, because I could work, but help with Harry’s education. After all, itwas Goedler money and she’d no one particular of her own to spend it on.

‘And then,’ Phillipa spoke faster, it was as though, now her long reserve had broken down, she couldn’t get the words out fast enough, ‘that hold-up happened and I began to be frightened. Because it seemed to me that the only possible person with a motive for killing Miss Blacklock wasme. I hadn’t the least idea who Julia was-we aren’t identical twins and we’re not much alike to look at. No, it seemed as though I was the only one bound to be suspected.’

She stopped and pushed her fair hair back from her face, and Craddock suddenly realized that the faded snapshot in the box of letters must have been a photograph of Phillipa’s mother. The likeness was undeniable. He knew too why that mention of closing and unclosing hands had seemed familiar-Phillipa was doing it now.

‘Miss Blacklock has been good to me. Veryvery good to me-I didn’t try to kill her. I never thought of killing her. But all the same, I’m Pip.’ She added, ‘You see, you needn’t suspect Edmund any more.’

‘Needn’t I?’ said Craddock. Again there was that acid biting tone in his voice. ‘Edmund Swettenham’s a young man who’s fond of money. A young man, perhaps, who would like to marry a rich wife. But she wouldn’t be a rich wifeunless Miss Blacklock died before Mrs Goedler. And since it seemed almost certain that Mrs Goedler would die before Miss Blacklock, well-he had to do something about it-didn’t you, Mr Swettenham?’

‘It’s a damned lie!’ Edmund shouted.

And then, suddenly, a sound rose on the air. It came from the kitchen-a long unearthly shriek of terror.

‘That isn’t Mitzi!’ cried Julia.

‘No,’ said Inspector Craddock, ‘it’s someone who’s murdered three people…’