Chapter Twenty-fourDr. Gardiner sat looking at Inspector Rock. They made a sharp contrast—Gardiner thin, dark, alert, and the Inspector a big fair man who would be massive by the time he was fifty. At present he was a likeable thirty-six with a pleasant blue eye and a humorous mouth. They were in the study, and somehow they made it seem crowded. Too many pictures on the walls, too much china, too many nicknacks. Gardiner said,
‘Well, I can only go on saying what I have said all along. If she fell down the stairs and was killed, then someone arranged the body in the position in which we found it. The back of her head—well, you saw it for yourself—completely crushed. But she was found lying on her face, and everyone swears they didn’t turn her over. And why should they? The other way round
