“I wish it hadn’t been,” said Dr. Chesney from deep in his throat. “Lord, I wish it hadn’t been! I wish I’d put a bullet in the swine’s skull then and there. Still, it was an accident just the same. I swear to you I didn’t know there was a live cartridge in it.”
“But Dr. Fell said——”
“I am sorry,” returned Dr. Fell, making an uncomfortable movement. “Not once in this entire case, I maintain have I misled you by word, deed, or suggestion; but I had to mislead you then. There were too many ears close at hand. I refer particularly to the sharp Pamela and the even sharper Lena, whose ears were open just inside the door; and an extraordinary amount of shouting was going on in a public place. Lena’s obvious fondness for Harding would probably have led her to report anything I said; and, if Harding heard me say it was not an accident, he would think he was safe beyond all his dreams of bliss.”
“Thank God,” said the girl. “I was afraid it might be you.”
“Me?” demanded Dr. Chesney.
“The murderer, I mean. Of course, at first I thought it might be Professor Ingram——”
Professor Ingram’s mild eyes opened wide. “This is rather astonishing,” he declared. “I am flattered, but——”
“Oh, it was your talk about committing the perfect psychological murder. And then, when I went over to your house and stayed there all afternoon, and asked you whether I ought to marry George, and you psychoanalyzed me and said I didn’t love him and he wasn’t the type for me—oh, I didn’t know what to think. But you were right. You were right. You were right.”
Dr. Fell blinked round. “Psychoanalyzed her?” he demanded. “And what type should she marry?”
Marjorie’s face flamed.
“I never,” she said through her teeth, “I never even want to
see
another man as long as I live.”
“Present company excluded, I hope,” said Professor Ingram comfortably. “We can’t let you acquire any neurosis, you know. I have thought that in a well-ordered community such a neurosis would be cured by the same principle that is used when airmen crash without being hurt. In order to get back their nerve permanently, they are immediately sent up again in another plane. Your type? I should say, after consideration, that it is one in which the inhibitions correspond to——”
“Oh, rubbish,” said Major Crow. “The type she wants is a policeman. Now, when this is settled, I promise you, I give you my word of honour, that I’m not having anything more to do with this case. That’s definite. But what
I
say is——”