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Emeraude, the home of a married couple, the Lenormands.
    ‘Louis Lenormand is a young stockbroker. His wife, Cécile, is a delicate, beautiful girl. Last Sunday afternoon, Madame Lenormand was going to have tea with Thérèse Saint-Prix. Louis Lenormand was spending the week-end in Paris with his invalid mother, but was expected back that night.
    ‘Madame Lenormand went through the garden of the Villa Eméraude down to the stream. When she got there, she pulled up short and gave a cry of horror! The plank bridge was broken, and in the water lay the body of Professor Saint-Prix. She rushed back to the house for help, and then fainted.’
    ‘Well, where do I come in?’
    ‘Almost as soon as they had got Madame Lenormand to bed, and were breaking the news of her father’s death to Thérèse Saint-Prix, Louis Lenormand arrived in his car, driving like a fury. He was pale and trembling. The first words he spoke were: “Am I in time? Tell me—tell me. My God, I’ve been a fool!” He was like a madman and rushed upstairs to his wife’s room without waiting for an answer from the astonished servants. His wife’s maid told him what had happened. At first he did not seem to understand. Then he stole to his wife’s bedside and kissed her hands passionately, weeping and murmuring, “Cécile, I am a murderer.” ’
    ‘Still I confess I don’t understand. You have your murder—you have your murderer—self-confessed. What more do you want?’
    ‘Well, the thing is this. We checked up on Louis Lenormand’s movements while he was away from Beauvray. We know that the bridge was perfectly safe on the Saturday morning, for a gardener crossed by it. Now all Saturday afternoon Lenormand spent at his mother’s bedside. He sat with her again after dinner until eleven o’clock, and then turned into bed himself. Old Madame Lenormand’s maid and cook heard him kicking off his shoes in the room next to theirs. And the maid swears that in the small hours she heard him switch off his light, so she supposes he must have been lying awake reading. All Sunday morning he did not stir out, so it is out of the question that he could possibly have sawed through the bridge between the gardens at Beauvray.’
    ‘What made you establish such a thorough alibi for your suspect?’
    ‘Madame Lenormand, though still weak from the shock, has recovered consciousness. Her belief in her husband’s innocence is absolute. Her one aim is to clear him. She insisted on these investigations being made. He will not say a word in his own defence. It’s all very mystifying.’
    ‘You say that Louis Lenormand was not expected back until Sunday evening. Do you know why he left Paris so much earlier?’
    ‘That,’ said Béchoux, ‘is a curious point. Apparently he was alone in one of the rooms in his mother’s flat, reading a book while the old lady had a nap after her lunch. The servants were both in the kitchen, and testify that suddenly, about three o’clock, he rushed in to them and said he was going home at once but would not disturb his mother to say good-bye.’
    ‘And the motive? What reason could Louis Lenormand have to murder his neighbour?’
    Inspector Béchoux shrugged his shoulders.
    ‘I have an idea, and Doctor Desportes is making some investigations on my behalf.’
    ‘Is there no one else who comes under suspicion? What about Madame Lenormand?’

3
    Inspector Béchoux was silent. The car swung off the main road up a shady avenue. They turned into the drive of the Villa Eméraude. They were met outside the house by Doctor Desportes, who announced:
    ‘The Beauvray police have arrested Monsieur Lenormand, but I have been busy on the telephone to headquarters, and you are now officially in charge of the case.’
    ‘But his alibi—he was in Paris all the time—he could not have sawed through the bridge!’
    The doctor looked grave.
    ‘Monsieur Lenormand had a latch-key to his mother’s flat. The Paris police have inquired at the