‘Now, what I want you to understand is this. This morning’s complaint came from Colonel Exbury, who lives three miles out of the town in a westerly direction. He rang up directly after he had got rid of Alfie, and the call was received here at a quarter to one. If, then, Alfie was seen in the vicinity of the doctor’s house at ten minutes past one, he must have covered three and three-quarter miles in twenty-five minutes. I may as well explain that there is no bus route between the two points and that Alfie has never been known to ride a bicycle.’
‘Mightn’t he have got a lift on a car or lorry, sir?’ Jimmy suggested.
‘He might, but it isn’t in the least likely. No, I’m pretty sure that we shall find that the doctor made a false statement about seeing Alfie for some purpose of his own. Alfie can be questioned, of course, but it’s very difficult to get any sense out of him, when he’s in these wandering moods.
‘Meanwhile I’ve had another report upon the wound. It struck me that it might be a trifle awkward if the only medical evidence at the inquest were given by the criminal himself. So I suggested that Dr Thornborough’s partner should be called in. He came to see me this afternoon and described the cause of the fracture in exactly the same terms as Dr Thornborough had done. Mr Fransham was struck a violent blow by something cubical in shape. That something may have been either the head of a weapon or a missile—it is impossible to say which on the evidence of the wound alone.
‘But we know that it can’t have been a missile. I’m going to remind you once more of the circumstances. Linton was in the house at the time and he is ready to swear to these facts. First, that the door of the cloakroom was not opened from the time when Mr Fransham locked it behind him until Linton himself broke it open. Second, that he and the doctor entered the cloakroom together. Third, that the doctor had no opportunity of picking up the missile unobserved. Fourth, that the room contained nothing capable of having caused the wound at the time of his search.
‘The remote possibility occured to me that a missile, having struck Mr Fransham’s head, might have bounced out again through the window. I therefore searched the carriage-way outside but without result.
‘The possibility of a missile having been employed is thus ruled out, and we are driven back to the theory of a weapon. The doctor must have crept up to the window while Mr Fransham was washing his hands, put his arm through the opening and dealt him a heavy blow with an iron instrument of some kind. That instrument can’t be very far away, and, once it is found, the evidence will be complete.
‘I’ve seen to the usual formalities, of course. I have been in touch with the coroner and he has ordered an inquest at half-past eleven on Monday. And I’ve arranged for the body to be taken to the mortuary this evening. Now, is there anything else you want to know?’
‘How long has Dr Thornborough been in practice in Adderminster?’
‘Seven years. Dr Dorrington took him into partnership then. They’ve got a surgery between them in the town here, and for five years Dr and Mrs Thornborough lived in the house next door. Then a couple of years ago, he built that new house of his in Gunthorpe Road. Why he gave it a ridiculous name like Epidaurus I can’t tell you. Anything else?’
‘Not at present, thank you, sir,’ Jimmy replied. ‘Have you any objection to my visiting the scene of the crime?’
‘Not the slightest. You can’t miss the house. Turn to the right at the bottom of High Street and keep straight on till you come to it. You can’t make any mistake, for you’ll find the name painted on the gate. You’ll find Sergeant Cload on duty up there. He’ll be able to tell you anything else you want to know.’
Jimmy left the police station and walked down the busy little High Street, noticing, as he did so, the brass plate on the surgery door bearing the names of Drs Dorrington and Thornborough. Following the superintendent’s instructions, he turned to the right and found himself in Middle Street, a narrow thoroughfare bordered with shops on both sides. After half a mile or so the pavements came to an end, at which point Middle Street became Gunthorpe Road.
A couple of hundred yards farther on, Jimmy came to an imposing gateway on his right. A notice board affixed to this informed him that it was the entrance to the Gunthorpe public gardens and the Adderminster and District Museum. On the opposite side of the road was a single building, a small house or cottage, apparently of considerable age, and surrounded by a succession of orchards and meadow-lands. Another couple of hundred yards beyond the gateway and on the same side of the road was the first drive gate of Epidaurus.
Jimmy did not turn in here, but walked on until he reached the second drive gate, from which he could see straight down the carriage-way to the garage at its farther end. Jimmy, wishing to acquaint himself fully with the local topography, did not stop here. As he proceeded he found a high but ragged hedge on his right, above which towered an enormous board bearing the words, ‘Building plots for sale.’ Finally, about a quarter of a mile beyond Epidaurus, Gunthorpe Road ended abruptly at a five-barred gate, beyond which a track led to a farmhouse in the distance.
As he turned back Jimmy wondered what sort of a man this Dr Thornborough would turn out to be. One thing was already certain, that he possessed a sense of humour. Epidaurus, the shrine of Aesculapius! What more suitable name could have been chosen for a doctor’s house? Jimmy wondered how many people in Adderminster appreciated the allusion. Certainly the superintendent didn’t. But then the superintendent’s mind was concerned more with material facts than with classical allusions.
This time Jimmy turned in at the gate and walked down the carriage-way. When he reached the cloakroom window he became aware of a rubicund face surveying him through the opening.
‘Good-afternoon, Sergeant Cload,’ he said quietly. ‘My name’s Waghorn, and I’ve been sent down from the Yard to see if I can give you a hand. I’m just going to have a look round, then I’ll come in and have a chat with you. You can let me in without disturbing the household, I dare say?’
‘Yes, sir, I can manage that,’ Cload replied. ‘You come to the window when you’re ready and I’ll open the garden door and let you in that way.’
Jimmy nodded, and went on towards the garage. The two cars were still standing at the end of the carriage-way—Dr Thornborough’s twelve horse-power Masspro outside the garage, and Mr Frasham’s big twenty-five horse-power Siddeley limousine inside. Of the doctor or Coates there was no sign.
Jimmy looked in at the open window of the doctor’s car and glanced swiftly round its interior. Except for a rug folded on the back seat it was empty.
At the end of the garage was a narrow bench upon which lay a few small tools. Nails driven into the wall supported a collection of miscellaneous objects. Three or four old tyres, a suit of overalls and a turn-cock.
Jimmy felt a thrill of excitement as he caught sight of this last object. He knew at once what it was. The key to the cock on the service-pipe by which the water supply to the house could be turned on or off. It was made of three-quarter inch iron rod with a T-shaped handle at one end. At the other end was a roughly cubical box, the hollow of which was designed to fit a square on the end of the cock spindle.
The key so exactly tallied with the superintendent’s description of the weapon which he had imagined, that Jimmy could hardly believe his eyes. He took out his foot-rule and measured the outside dimensions of the box. It was almost exactly an inch and a half either way. But even with a pocket lens he could find no trace of blood or hair upon it. However, that meant nothing, for there had been plenty of time and opportunity to clean it since the crime had been committed.
Jimmy carefully refrained from touching the turn-cock and after a careful inspection of the garage returned to the cloakroom window. A minute later Cload had opened the garden door for him, and the two entered the cloakroom together.
‘You’ve found nothing fresh, I suppose, sergeant?’ Jimmy asked.
‘No, sir, I haven’t,’ Cload replied. ‘I thought I might just as well have a good look round while I was here, but I haven’t