Twenty-nine
Once more I was in Wilbraham Crescent, proceeding¹ in a westerly direction.
I stopped before the gate of No. 19. No one came screaming out of the house this time. It wasneat and peaceful.
I went up to the front door and rang the bell.
Miss Millicent Pebmarsh opened it.
“This is Colin Lamb,” I said. “May I come in and speak to you?”
“Certainly.”
She preceded me into the sitting room.
“You seem to spend a lot of time down here, Mr. Lamb. I understood that you were notconnected with the local police—”
“You understood rightly. I think, really, you have known exactly who I am from the first dayyou spoke² to me.”
“I’m not sure quite what you mean by that.”
“I’ve been extremely stupid, Miss Pebmarsh. I came to this place to look for you. I found youthe first day I was here—and I didn’t know I had found you!”
“Possibly murder distracted you.”
“As you say. I was also stupid enough to look at a piece of paper the wrong way up.”
“And what is the point of all this?”
“Just that the game is up, Miss Pebmarsh. I’ve found the headquarters where all the planning isdone. Such records and memoranda³ as are necessary are kept by you on the microdot system inBraille. The information Larkin got at Portlebury was passed to you. From here it went to itsdestination by means of Ramsay. He came across when necessary from his house to yours at nightby way of the garden. He dropped a Czech coin in your garden one day—”
“That was careless of him.”
“We’re all careless at some time or another. Your cover is very good. You’re blind, you work atan institute for disabled children, you keep children’s books in Braille in your house as is onlynatural—you are a woman of unusual intelligence and personality. I don’t know what is thedriving power that animates⁴ you—”
“Say if you like that I am dedicated⁵.”
“Yes. I thought it might be like that.”
“And why are you telling me all this? It seems unusual.”

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