“The next important disturbance was the affair of the missing fuses.”

Here the Dean could contain herself no longer and burst out:

“What a lovely title for a thriller!”

The veiled eyes lifted instantly, and the laughter-lines gathered at the corners.

“Perfect. And that was all it was. X retired, having accomplished nothing but a thriller with good publicity value.”

“And it was after that,” said Miss de Vine, “that the newspaper was found in my room.”

“Yes,” said Wimsey; “mine was a rational, not a chronological, grouping… That brings us to the end of the Hilary Term. The Vacation passed without incident. In the Summer Term, we are faced with the cumulative effect of long and insidious persecution upon a scholar of sensitive temperament. That was the most dangerous phase of X’s activities. We know that other students besides Miss Newland had received letters wishing them bad luck in their Schools; happily, Miss Layton and the rest were of tougher fibre. But I should like particularly to draw your attention to the fact that, with a few unimportant exceptions, the animus was all directed against dons and scholars.”

Here the Bursar, who had been manifesting irritation for some time, broke in:

“I cannot imagine why they are making all that noise underneath this building. Do you mind, Warden, if I send out and stop it?”

“I am sorry,” said Wimsey. “I am afraid I am responsible for that. I suggested to Padgett that a search in the coal-cellar might be profitable.”

“Then,” pronounced the Warden, “I fear we must put up with it, Bursar.” She inclined her head towards Wimsey, who went on:

“That is a brief summary of the events as presented to me by Miss Vane, when, with your consent, Warden, she laid the case before me. I rather gathered”-here the right hand became restless and began to beat out a silent tattoo upon the tabletop-“that she and some others among you were inclined to look upon the outrages as the outcome of repressions sometimes accompanying the celibate life and issuing in an obscene and unreasoning malice directed partly against the conditions of that life and partly against persons who enjoyed or had enjoyed or might be supposed to enjoy a wider experience. There is no doubt that malice of that kind exists. But the history of the case seemed to me to offer a psychological picture of an entirely different kind. One member of this Common Room has been married, and another is engaged to be married; and neither of these, who ought to have been the first victims, were (so far as I know) persecuted at all. The dominance of the naked female figure in the early drawing is also highly significant. So is the destruction of Miss Barton’s book. Also, the bias displayed by X seemed to be strongly anti-scholastic, and to have a more or less rational motive, based on some injury amounting in X’s mind to murder, inflicted upon a male person by a female scholar. The grievance seemed, to my mind, to be felt principally against Miss de Vine, and to be extended, from her, to the whole College and possibly to educated women in general. I therefore felt we should look for a woman either married or with sexual experience, of limited education but some acquaintance with scholars and scholarship, whose past was in some way linked with that of Miss de Vine, and (though this was an assumption) who had probably come into residence later than last December.”

Harriet twisted her glance away from Peter’s hand, which had ceased its soft drumming and now lay flat on the table, to estimate the effect of this on his hearers. Miss de Vine was frowning as though her mind, running back over the years, were dispassionately considering her claim to have done murder; Miss Chilperic’s face wore a troubled blush, and Mrs. Goodwin’s an air of protest; in Miss Hillyard’s eyes was an extraordinary mixture of triumph and embarrassment; Miss Barton was nodding quiet assent, Miss Allison smiling, Miss Shaw faintly affronted; Miss Edwards was looking at Peter with eyes that said frankly, “You are the sort of person I can deal with.” The Warden’s grave countenance was expressionless. The Dean’s profile gave no clue to her feelings, but she uttered a little, quick sigh that sounded like relief.

“I will now come,” said Peter, “to the material clues. First, the printed messages. It seemed to me extremely unlikely that these could have been produced, in such quantity, within the College walls, without leaving some trace of their origin. I was inclined to look for an outside source. Similarly with the figured dress found on the dummy; it seemed very strange that nobody should ever have set eyes on it before, though it was several seasons old. Thirdly, there was the odd circumstance that the letters which came by post were always received either on a Monday or a Thursday, as though Sunday and Wednesday were the only days on which letters could conveniently be posted from a distant post-office or box. These three considerations might have suggested someone living at a distance, who visited Oxford only twice a week. But the nightly disturbances made it plain that the person actually lived within the walls, with fixed days for going outside them and a place somewhere outside, where clothes could be kept and letters prepared. The person who would fulfill these conditions best would be one of the scouts.”

Miss Stevens and Miss Barton both stirred.

“The majority of the scouts, however, seemed to be ruled out. Those who were not confined within the Scouts’ Wing at night were trusted women of long service here-most unlikely to fulfill any of the other conditions. Most of those in Scouts’ Wing slept two in a room, and therefore (unless two of them were in collusion) could not possibly escape into the College night after night without being suspected. This left only those who had separate bedrooms: Carrie, the head Scout; Annie, the scout attached first to Miss Lydgate’s staircase and subsequently to the Senior Common Room, and a third scout, Ethel, an elderly and highly reputable woman. Of these three, Annie corresponded most closely to the psychological picture of X; for she had been married and had the afternoon of Sunday and the afternoon and evening of Wednesday free; she also had her children domiciled in the town and therefore a place where she could keep clothes and prepare letters.”

“But-” began the Bursar, indignantly.

“This is only the case as I saw it last Sunday week,” said Wimsey. “Certain powerful objections at once presented themselves. The Scouts’ Wing was shut off by locked doors and gates. But it was made clear at the time of the Library episode that the buttery hatch was occasionally left open for the convenience of students wishing to obtain supplies late at night. Miss Hudson had, in fact, expected to find it open that very night. When Miss Vane tried it, it was, in fact, locked. But that was after X had left the Library, and you will remember that X was shown to have been trapped in the Hall Building by Miss Vane and Miss Hudson at one end and Miss Barton at the other. The assumption made at the time was that she had been hiding in the Hall.

“After that episode, greater care was taken to see that the buttery hatch was kept locked, and I learn that the key, which was previously left on the inner side of the hatch, was removed and placed on Carrie’s key-ring. But a key can very readily be cut in a single day. Actually, it was a week before the next nocturnal episode occurred, which carries us over the following Wednesday, when a key abstracted from Carrie’s bunch might readily have been copied and returned. (I know for a fact that such a key was cut on that Wednesday by an ironmonger in the lower part of the town, though I have not been able to identify the purchaser. But that is merely a routine detail.) There was one consideration which inclined Miss Vane to exonerate all the scouts, and that was, that no woman in that position would be likely to express her resentment in the Latin quotation from the Aeneid found attached to the dummy.