IX
　　"I've got a question for you, doctor," said Battle.
　　They were in the doctor's house after returning from the nursing home, where they had had a short interview with Jane Barrett.
　　Barrett was weak and exhausted¹, but quite clear in her statement.
　　She had just been getting into bed after drinking her senna when Lady Tressilian's bell had wrung³. She had glanced at the dock and seen the time -twenty-five minutes past ten.
　　She had put on her dressing-gown and come down. She had heard a noise in the hall below and had looked over the balusters.
　　"It was Mr. Nevile just going out. He was taking his raincoat down from the hook.""What suit was he wearing?"
　　"His grey pinstripe. His face was very worried and unhappy-looking. He shoved his arms into his coat as though he didn't care how he put it on. Then he went out and banged the front door behind him. I went on in to Her Ladyship. She was very drowsy⁴, poor dear, and couldn't remember why she had rung for me - she couldn't always, poor lady. But I beat up her pillows and brought her a fresh glass of water and settled her comfortably.""She didn't seem upset or afraid of anything?""Just tired, that's all. I was tired myself. Yawning. I went up and went right off to sleep."That was Barrett's story, and it seemed impossible to doubt her genuine grief and horror at the news of her mistress's death.
　　They went back to Lazenby's house, and it was then that Battle announced that he had a question to ask.
　　"Ask away," said Lazenby.
　　"What time do you think Lady Tressilian died?""I've told you. Between ten o'clock and midnight.""I know that's what you said. But it wasn't my question. I asked you what you personally thought.""Off the record, eh?"
　　"Yes."
　　"All right. My guess would be in the neighbourhood of eleven o'clock.""That's what I wanted you to say," said Battle.
　　"Glad to oblige. Why?"
　　"Never did like the idea of her being killed before ten-twenty. Take Barrett's sleeping-draught - it wouldn't have got to work by then. That sleeping-draught shows that the murder was meant to be committed a good deal later - during the night. I'd prefer midnight myself.""Could be. Eleven is only a guess."
　　"But it definitely couldn't be later than midnight?""No."

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