夜雨聆风She will turn you out. I will watch, I think, and listen and then I will tellMiss Blacklock. But I understand now I was wrong. It was not love sheplanned with him, it was to rob and to murder. But you will say I make allthis up. Wicked Mitzi, you will say. I will take her to prison.”
Craddock wondered. She might be making it up. But possibly she mightnot. He asked cautiously:
“You are sure it was this Rudi Scherz she was talking to?”
“Of course I am sure. He just leave and I see him go from the driveacross to the summerhouse. And presently,” said Mitzi defiantly, “I go outto see if there are any nice young green nettles.”
Would there, the Inspector wondered, be any nice young green nettlesin October? But he appreciated that Mitzi had had to produce a hurriedreason for what had undoubtedly been nothing more than plain snooping.
“You didn’t hear any more than what you have told me?”
Mitzi looked aggrieved.
“That Miss Bunner, the one with the long nose, she call and call me.
Mitzi! Mitzi! So I have to go. Oh, she is irritating. Always interfering. Saysshe will teach me to cook. Her cooking! It tastes, yes, everything she does,of water, water, water!”
“Why didn’t you tell me this the other day?” asked Craddock sternly.
“Because I did not remember—I did not think … Only afterwards do Isay to myself, it was planned then—planned with her.”