The Weak-Eyed Bat

“His name is White, Inspector White. He’s had a lot of experience. After five minutes’ conversation you’ll consider him your best friend, and after ten minutes he’ll have the story of your life. Interested?”

Emily pressed her lips together tightly. “No, I’m not.”

“You should be. I don’t think he’s going to like Ralph’s story. I don’t myself. What’s more, when he finds out that you drew five thousand dollars from the bank yesterday and had it sent out to you by special messenger he’s going to be pretty curious about that, too.”

“Let him,” Emily said briskly.

“The bank, of course, didn’t want to give out this information, but they don’t like the word murder. I spoke to the manager myself. He was surprised at the amount of the withdrawal.”

“It costs a lot to run a house like this.”

“It does,” Prye agreed. “Still, the bank manager seemed fairly certain that this withdrawal was over and above your usual monthly one. Now I suggest that you intended to give Joan a going-away present. Probably it was her idea. Wasn’t it?”

“This is your story.”

“Well, I’d say it was her idea then. She knew that it was worth five thousand dollars to you to keep her out of the family. Where was the money to be handed over?”

“In the— Damn you, Prye.”

“That’s what I thought. You were to give her the money last night before she left. The meeting place was probably the grove of birches between my cottage and Miss Shane’s. You remember that little seat that Susan had built between two trees? Well, that’s the place. The trees are close together there and it’s quite private. It had to be private because you didn’t want Ralph to know you were buying Joan off. The funny part of it is that Joan had already decided to leave Muskoka for reasons of her own and not because you offered her five thousand dollars to leave.”

“The dirty little cheat,” Emily whispered.

“After dinner last night you told Miss Alfonse you were going to lie down. I suppose you did lie down for a while, but when it was dark and Miss Alfonse was out of the way, you got up again. How did you get out of the house without anyone seeing you?”

“Walked,” Emily said curtly.

“And when you arrived at the meeting place?”

“I didn’t arrive.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d forgotten about the spotlight. It is turned off and on in the kitchen and Wang and the cook were in there. I was afraid someone would see me so I broke it. I threw a stone at it.”

Prye grinned at her. “You have many buried talents. All right, you threw your rock. Why didn’t you go on and meet Joan as you had planned?”

“The noise. I had no idea how much noise it would make. I was afraid someone would come along and see me, especially Ralph, so I went back into the house and lay down again. Alfonse found me there.”

“You didn’t see Joan at all?”

“No.”

“Nor anyone else?”

“I saw no one.”

Prye leaned back in his chair and studied the ceiling. “It’s a good story. I like it. I almost believe it.”

“Thanks,” Emily said grimly.

“But something entirely different may have happened. Suppose you did meet Joan Frost, and instead of handing over the money you killed her. Then you came back and threw a rock at the spotlight.”

“Why did I break the spotlight at all if that’s the case?”

“Because, in a manner of speaking, it would give you some sort of alibi. The spotlight breaks with a loud noise, the noise attracts people, and the people find you in bed. Whereas if the spotlight had not been shattered someone might not have turned up so soon after the murder.”

“Plausible,” Emily said. “It’s not true, however.”

Prye paid no attention. “It’s another case of misdirection. Attention is fixed at one point, the spotlight, while at another point Miss Emily Bonner is covering up the traces of her trip into the woods. Besides, who would suspect Miss Bonner of damaging her own property?”

“You, apparently. Have you any more theories, Prye?”

“At least one other that concerns you, Emily. You went out last night to meet Joan, but somebody had arrived there before you. Do you know who it was?”

“Certainly. It was you.”

“It was not me,” Prye said violently, “and you know it. It was Ralph.”

Emily affected great surprise. “Was it really? I guess my eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be.” She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“Now I suppose you’re going into a trance,” Prye said bitterly.

“No, I’m merely tinkering with an idea,” she said, stroking her pink feathers. “Suppose I hire you to protect Ralph’s interests. You have a very versatile mind. If you can build up as good a case against someone else as you have against Ralph and myself I’ll pay you the five thousand dollars that was to go to Joan.”

“That sounds like bribery.”

She let out a deep sigh. “Which is precisely what it is. Are you bribable, Prye?”

“Not at the moment. I just came by ten thousand dollars honestly and I like the feeling.”