they're locked up, you know, in a suitcase. I only keep out one, the one that's in current use.”
“And you missed this bottle a short time ago, so I hear?”
“Quite right.”
“And you asked this girl, Victoria Johnson, whether she'd seen it?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said the last time she'd seen it was on the shelf in our bathroom. She said she'd look around.”
“And after that?”
“She came and returned the bottle to me some time later. She said was this the bottle that was missing?”
“And you said?”
“I said 'that's it, all right, where did you find it?' And she said it was in old Major Palgrave's room. I said 'how on earth did it get there?'”
“And what did she answer to that?”
“She said she didn't know, but-” he hesitated.
“Yes, Mr. Dyson?”
“Well, she gave me the feeling that she did know a little more than she was saying, but I didn't pay much attention. After all, it wasn't very important. As I say, I've got other bottles of pills with me. I thought perhaps I'd left it around in the restaurant or somewhere and old Palgrave picked it up for some reason. Perhaps he put it in his pocket meaning to return it to me, then forgot.”
“And that's all you know about it, Mr. Dyson?”
“That's all I know. Sorry to be so unhelpful. Is it important? Why!”
Weston shrugged his shoulders. “As things are, anything may be important.”
“I don't see where pills come in. I thought you'd want to know about what my movements were when this wretched girl was stabbed. I've written them all down as carefully as I can.”
Weston looked at him thoughtfully.
“Indeed? That was very helpful of you, Mr. Dyson.”
“Save everybody trouble, I thought,” said Greg. He shoved a piece of paper across the table.
Weston studied it and Daventry drew his chair a little closer and looked over his shoulder.
“That seems very clear,” said Weston, after a moment or two. “You and your wife were together changing for dinner in your bungalow until ten minutes to nine. You then went along to the terrace where you had drinks with Seсora de Caspearo. At quarter past nine Colonel and Mrs. Hillingdon joined you and you went in to dine. As far as you can remember, you went off to bed at about half past eleven.”
“Of course,” said Greg. “I don't know what time the girl was actually killed-?”
There was a faint semblance of a question in the words. Lieutenant Weston, however, did not appear to notice it.
“Mrs. Kendal found her, I understand? Must have been a very nasty shock for her.”
“Yes. Dr. Robertson had to give her a sedative.”
“This was quite late, wasn't it, when most people had trundled off to bed?”
“Yes.”
“Had she been dead long? When Mrs. Kendal found her, I mean?”
“We're not quite certain of the exact time yet,” said Weston smoothly.
“Poor little Molly. It must have been a nasty shock for her. Matter of fact, I didn't notice her about last night. Thought she might have a headache or something and was lying down.”
“When was the last time you did see Mrs. Kendal?”
“Oh, quite early, before I went to change. She was playing about with some of the table decorations and things. Rearranging the knives.”
“I see.”
“She was quite cheerful then,” said Greg. “Kidding and all that. She's a great girl. We're all very fond of her. Tim's a lucky fellow.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Dyson. You can't remember anything more than you've told us about what the girl Victoria said when she returned the tablets?”
“No... It was just as I say. Asked me were these the tablets I'd been asking for. Said she'd found them in old Palgrave's room.”
“She'd no idea who put them there?”
“Don't think so-can't remember, really.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dyson.”
Gregory went out.
“Very thoughtful of him,” said Weston, gently tapping the paper with his fingernail, “to be so anxious to want us to know for sure
“And you missed this bottle a short time ago, so I hear?”
“Quite right.”
“And you asked this girl, Victoria Johnson, whether she'd seen it?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said the last time she'd seen it was on the shelf in our bathroom. She said she'd look around.”
“And after that?”
“She came and returned the bottle to me some time later. She said was this the bottle that was missing?”
“And you said?”
“I said 'that's it, all right, where did you find it?' And she said it was in old Major Palgrave's room. I said 'how on earth did it get there?'”
“And what did she answer to that?”
“She said she didn't know, but-” he hesitated.
“Yes, Mr. Dyson?”
“Well, she gave me the feeling that she did know a little more than she was saying, but I didn't pay much attention. After all, it wasn't very important. As I say, I've got other bottles of pills with me. I thought perhaps I'd left it around in the restaurant or somewhere and old Palgrave picked it up for some reason. Perhaps he put it in his pocket meaning to return it to me, then forgot.”
“And that's all you know about it, Mr. Dyson?”
“That's all I know. Sorry to be so unhelpful. Is it important? Why!”
Weston shrugged his shoulders. “As things are, anything may be important.”
“I don't see where pills come in. I thought you'd want to know about what my movements were when this wretched girl was stabbed. I've written them all down as carefully as I can.”
Weston looked at him thoughtfully.
“Indeed? That was very helpful of you, Mr. Dyson.”
“Save everybody trouble, I thought,” said Greg. He shoved a piece of paper across the table.
Weston studied it and Daventry drew his chair a little closer and looked over his shoulder.
“That seems very clear,” said Weston, after a moment or two. “You and your wife were together changing for dinner in your bungalow until ten minutes to nine. You then went along to the terrace where you had drinks with Seсora de Caspearo. At quarter past nine Colonel and Mrs. Hillingdon joined you and you went in to dine. As far as you can remember, you went off to bed at about half past eleven.”
“Of course,” said Greg. “I don't know what time the girl was actually killed-?”
There was a faint semblance of a question in the words. Lieutenant Weston, however, did not appear to notice it.
“Mrs. Kendal found her, I understand? Must have been a very nasty shock for her.”
“Yes. Dr. Robertson had to give her a sedative.”
“This was quite late, wasn't it, when most people had trundled off to bed?”
“Yes.”
“Had she been dead long? When Mrs. Kendal found her, I mean?”
“We're not quite certain of the exact time yet,” said Weston smoothly.
“Poor little Molly. It must have been a nasty shock for her. Matter of fact, I didn't notice her about last night. Thought she might have a headache or something and was lying down.”
“When was the last time you did see Mrs. Kendal?”
“Oh, quite early, before I went to change. She was playing about with some of the table decorations and things. Rearranging the knives.”
“I see.”
“She was quite cheerful then,” said Greg. “Kidding and all that. She's a great girl. We're all very fond of her. Tim's a lucky fellow.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Dyson. You can't remember anything more than you've told us about what the girl Victoria said when she returned the tablets?”
“No... It was just as I say. Asked me were these the tablets I'd been asking for. Said she'd found them in old Palgrave's room.”
“She'd no idea who put them there?”
“Don't think so-can't remember, really.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dyson.”
Gregory went out.
“Very thoughtful of him,” said Weston, gently tapping the paper with his fingernail, “to be so anxious to want us to know for sure
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