The scene of the crime...
The man rushed out of the house muttering with a kind of dreadful repetition, 'My God! My God! My God!'
His face was white and twisted, he staggered like a drunken man. Tuppence drew her finger absently across the gate-post.
'He must have put his hand across some wet red paint somewhere', she said idly.
But when Tommy and Tuppence went upstairs, they found a motionless figure in black and ermine stretched on the sofa. The beautiful face was untouched. The wound was on the side of the head. A heavy blow had crushed in the skull, blood dripped slowly on to the floor - but the wound itself had long ceased to bleed...