Her needles clicked.

“I shall be interested to hear what they are.”

“If I was sure that Felix Brand was the murderer I shouldn’t be here. You saw him for yourself. He had the sort of crazy passion for Helen Adrian which could quite easily end up in a case of murder-cum-suicide. That is just what this looks like. But there are one or two things that don’t fit in. Marian had an old raincoat down on the beach yesterday. The shingle was damp where the tide had left it. There were a lot of these rugs and old coats-”

“Yes, I was provided with one myself.”

He nodded.

“They were taken in afterwards. I carried Marian’s. It is kept hanging on one of the pegs in the passage which leads to the door between the two houses. I hung it there. There was a scarf on the peg already-a blue and yellow square which she wears over her hair when it is windy. I took it down in order to hang up the coat, and then put it back again.”

“Yes, Mr. Cunningham?”

He went on in the same quiet, even tone.

“The door between the houses is locked on the far side, bolted on the nearer side. It is the same on all three floors. Marian did not go out again, but in the morning when Helen Adrian’s body was discovered this raincoat was down on the terrace from which Helen was pushed or fell. There is a seat there, and it was lying on the seat. But the scarf-”

“The scarf, Mr. Cunningham?”

“The blue and yellow square, which I had put back on the same peg, was still there, but it was badly crumpled and stained with blood.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“And what deduction do you draw from that?”

He made an abrupt movement.

“It looks like an attempt to involve Marian. Her raincoat down on the terrace. It has her name inside the neckband. Her scarf, which everyone knows, messed up and put back on the peg. What else can it be? But it doesn’t tie up with Felix Brand. I can imagine him murdering Helen and swimming out to sea to drown himself afterwards. But I don’t see him taking Marian’s raincoat down to the terrace for one clue, and messing up her scarf and putting it back for another. Murder and suicide are compatible with a state of reckless passion, but not with this cold-blooded attempt to throw suspicion on somebody else. That’s the psychological difficulty. But there’s a physical one too. Those doors between the houses are kept locked on one side, bolted on the other. The outside doors and windows on the ground floor were all shut when we came in soon after seven. I am sure that the scarf and raincoat were still there when I went through the hall just before half past ten, because Marian was talking about the doors between the houses and I glanced along the passage. There was a good overhead light, and I am sure I should have noticed if her coat and scarf had not been there. Well then, how could Felix Brand have taken them? How could anyone in the other house have taken them? Or put the scarf back after it was stained?”

Miss Silver coughed.

“Very clear, very lucid,” she said. “May I ask whom you suspect?”

He said drily, “Not Marian or her sister.”

She coughed again.

“I will neither endorse nor question that.”

“Miss Silver!”

She had a faint reproving smile.

“Pray let us avoid coming to conclusions which may be premature. You have stated the facts. They may be explained in more than one way. For the moment what I want to ask you is this. Just why are you here?”

His manner had become a shade more formal.

“I want to protect Miss Brand.”

She was knitting steadily.

“You want to protect her, and you come to me. In what way do you imagine that I can help you?”

He sat up straight, one hand on the arm of his chair.

“I will tell you. I am-very uneasy. I think there is an attempt to involve Marian Brand. I think there may be a money motive behind it. She has recently come in for a considerable sum of money.”

“Oh, yes, there has been a good deal of local talk about that. The late Mr. Brand was very well known and respected, I understand. When he left his entire fortune to a niece whom nobody had ever seen, there was bound to be a good deal of comment. Mrs. Lester’s maid is a cousin of the Mrs. Bell who works at Cove House, so she was full of it. Her story is, I suppose, correct. Miss Brand was her uncle’s sole heiress?”

“Yes. He left her everything. Ina Felton has no share. He distrusted her husband, and he had confidence in Marian. It is not true to say he had never seen her. He did see her once, in circumstances which enabled him to form his own opinion of her character, and he had for some years been receiving reports about her and her sister. He felt that he could trust her, and he did not feel that he could trust Cyril Felton. But if anything were to happen to Marian, half of what he left would go to her sister, and the other half would revert to Felix Brand, his mother, and his aunt.”

Miss Silver stopped knitting for a moment. She said, “I see-” in a very thoughtful voice, and then, “Pray go on.”

He said,

“I am in a difficulty. Martin Brand didn’t trust Cyril Felton. Marian doesn’t trust him at all, and nor do I. I don’t want those two girls to be there alone with him. I can’t produce any proof, but I am thoroughly uneasy over the whole business. I want to be on the spot, I want to be in the house. I don’t want those two girls to be alone, or with Cyril. But I am not in a position to put myself forward. I am quite sure that you know how I am placed. I hope to marry Marian Brand, but we have actually met only three times. It is just one of those things-they can’t be explained, and one doesn’t want them to be gossiped over. If I were to go and stay there alone, it would certainly set up a lot of talk. I don’t want to rush anything. We are not engaged-I have no status. Cyril has gone away-he says to an audition. He’ll be back for the week-end, if not before. He hasn’t a penny except what he gets out of Marian-” He broke off and looked at her entreatingly. “Miss Silver-will you come and stay at Cove House?”

She said, “Dear me!” Derek’s stocking revolved. Her expression was mild and thoughtful.

He felt emboldened to proceed.

“It would, of course, be a professional engagement.”

She gave her slight cough.

“As a chaperone, Mr. Cunningham?”

He felt an unwonted embarrassment.

“I’ve been stupid. I’ve muddled everything up-put the cart before the horse. The fact is, I am very anxious about Marian, and a good deal concerned about the best way of dealing with the situation.”

She smiled indulgently.

“Pray do not think that you have offended me. I understand that your position is a difficult one.”

“But I want you to understand something more than that. I want you to understand that I think those two girls are in need of protection. If anything were to happen to Marian, Ina would be at the mercy of a very unreliable husband. If I must put it quite plainly, I don’t trust Cyril Felton, and I want your professional help to see that he doesn’t get away with anything.”

Miss Siver’s smile had faded. She knitted in silence for a time. Then she said,

“If I were to come into this case in my professional capacity I could give no guarantee as to what the result might be. Miss Adrian has been murdered. I cannot undertake to prove that any given person is innocent-or guilty.”

“No, no-of course not.”

“That must be quite clearly understood. I would like you to consider this in all its aspects. Suppose Mr. Felton to be implicated in this murder-I do not say that he is implicated, but I want you to consider the possibility. Miss Brand and Mrs. Felton will not think that you are doing them a service by exposing him.”

Richard Cunningham looked at her very straight and said,

“If he had anything to do with Helen Adrian’s death, then he is the person who is trying to implicate Marian. And if he has murdered Helen and is planning to get rid of Marian, how long do you suppose it would be before something happened to Ina? I’m not taking any chances, and-Marian asks you to come.”