Cat Among the Pigeons by Agatha Christie Page B

no trace of hysteria. The kind of woman, he thought, who could be depended upon in a crisis though she might be overlooked in ordinary everyday life.
    “Miss Chadwick?” he said.
    “Yes.”
    “You came out with Miss Johnson and discovered the body?”
    “Yes. She was just as she is now. She was dead.”
    “And the time?”
    “I looked at my watch when Miss Johnson roused me. It was ten minutes to one.”
    Kelsey nodded. That agreed with the time that Miss Johnson had given him. He looked down thoughtfully at the dead woman. Her bright red hair was cut short. She had a freckled face, with a chin which jutted out strongly, and a spare, athletic figure. She was wearing a tweed skirt and a heavy, dark pullover. She had brogues on her feet with no stockings.
    “Any sign of the weapon?” asked Kelsey.
    One of his men shook his head. “No sign at all, sir.”
    “What about the light?”
    “There's a flashlight there in the corner.”
    “Any prints on it?”
    “Yes. The dead woman's.”
    “So she's the one who had the light,” said Kelsey thoughtfully. “She came out here with a flashlight - why?” He asked it partly of himself, partly of his men, partly of Miss Bulstrode and Miss Chadwick. Finally he seemed to concentrate on the latter. “Any ideas?”
    Miss Chadwick shook her head. “No idea at all. I suppose she might have left something here - forgotten it this afternoon or evening - and come out to fetch it. But it seems rather unlikely in the middle of the night.”
    “It must have been something very important if she did,” said Kelsey.
    He looked round him. Nothing seemed disturbed except the stand of racquets at the end. That seemed to have been pulled violently forward. Several of the racquets were lying about on the floor.
    “Of course,” said Miss Chadwick, “she could have seen a light here, like Miss Johnson did later, and have come out to investigate. That seems the most likely thing to me.”
    “I think you're right,” said Kelsey. “There's just one small matter. Would she have come out alone?”
    “Yes.” Miss Chadwick answered without hesitation.
    “Miss Johnson,” Kelsey reminded her, “came and woke you up.”
    “I know,” said Miss Chadwick, “and that's what I should have done if I'd seen the light. I would have woken up Miss Bulstrode or Miss Vansittart or somebody. But Miss Springer wouldn't. She would have been quite confident - indeed would have preferred to tackle an intruder on her own.”
    “Another point,” said the Inspector. “You came out through the side door with Miss Johnson. Was the side door unlocked?”
    “Yes, it was.”
    “Presumably left unlocked by Miss Springer?”
    “That seems the natural conclusion,” said Miss Chadwick.
    “So we assume,” said Kelsey, “that Miss Springer saw a light out here in the gymnasium - Sports Pavilion - whatever you call it - that she came out to investigate and that whoever was here shot her.” He wheeled round on Miss Bulstrode as she stood motionless in the doorway. “Does that seem right to you?” he asked.
    “It doesn't seem right at all,” said Miss Bulstrode. “I grant you the first part. We'll say Miss Springer saw a light out here and that she went out to investigate by herself. That's perfectly probable. But that the person she disturbed here should shoot her - that seems to me all wrong. If anyone was here who had no business to be here they would be more likely to run away, or to try to run away. Why should someone come to this place at this hour of night with a pistol? It's ridiculous, that's what it is. Ridiculous! There's nothing here worth stealing, certainly nothing for which it would be worthwhile doing murder.”
    “You think it more likely that Miss Springer disturbed a rendezvous of some kind?”
    “That's the natural and most probable explanation,” said Miss Bulstrode. “But it doesn't explain the fact of murder, does it? Girls in my school don't carry pistols about with them and any