Free The Clocks by Agatha Christie

yesterday, were you looking out of the window at all, or did you happen to be in your garden, say any time between half past twelve and three o’clock?”
    Miss Waterhouse reflected.
    â€œYes, I was in the garden … Now let me see. It must have been before one o’clock. I came in about ten to one from the garden, washed my hands and sat down to lunch.”
    â€œDid you see Miss Pebmarsh enter or leave the house?”
    â€œI think she came in—I heard the gate squeak—yes, some time after half past twelve.”
    â€œYou didn’t speak to her?”
    â€œOh no. It was just the squeak of the gate made me look up. It is her usual time for returning. She finishes her classes then, I believe. She teaches at the Disabled Children as probably you know.”
    â€œAccording to her own statement, Miss Pebmarsh went out again about half past one. Would you agree to that?”
    â€œWell, I couldn’t tell you the exact time but—yes, I do remember her passing the gate.”
    â€œI beg your pardon, Miss Waterhouse, you said ‘passing the gate.’”
    â€œCertainly. I was in my sitting room. That gives on the street, whereas the dining room, where we are sitting now, gives as you can see, on the back garden. But I took my coffee into the sitting room after lunch and I was sitting with it in a chair near the window. I was reading The Times, and I think it was when I was turning the sheet that I noticed Miss Pebmarsh passing the front gate. Is there anything extraordinary about that, Inspector?”
    â€œNot extraordinary, no,” said the inspector, smiling. “Only Iunderstood that Miss Pebmarsh was going out to do a little shopping and to the post office, and I had an idea that the nearest way to the shops and the post office would be to go the other way along the crescent.”
    â€œDepends on which shops you are going to,” said Miss Waterhouse. “Of course the shops are nearer that way, and there’s a post office in Albany Road—”
    â€œBut perhaps Miss Pebmarsh usually passed your gate about that time?”
    â€œWell, really, I don’t know what time Miss Pebmarsh usually went out, or in which direction. I’m not really given to watching my neighbours in any way, Inspector. I’m a busy woman and have far too much to do with my own affairs. Some people I know spend their entire time looking out of the window and noticing who passes and who calls on whom. That is more a habit of invalids or of people who’ve got nothing better to do than to speculate and gossip about their neighbours’ affairs.”
    Miss Waterhouse spoke with such acerbity that the inspector felt sure that she had some one particular person in mind. He said hastily, “Quite so. Quite so.” He added, “Since Miss Pebmarsh passed your front gate, she might have been going to telephone, might she not? That is where the public telephone box is situated?”
    â€œYes. It’s opposite Number 15.”
    â€œThe important question I have to ask you, Miss Waterhouse, is if you saw the arrival of this man—the mystery man as I’m afraid the morning papers have called him.”
    Miss Waterhouse shook her head. “No, I didn’t see him or any other caller.”
    â€œWhat were you doing between half past one and three o’clock?”
    â€œI spent about half an hour doing the crossword in The Times, or as much of it as I could, then I went out to the kitchen and washed up the lunch. Let me see. I wrote a couple of letters, made some cheques out for bills, then I went upstairs and sorted out some things I wanted to take to the cleaners. I think it was from my bedroom that I noticed a certain amount of commotion next door. I distinctly heard someone screaming, so naturally I went to the window. There was a young man and a girl at the gate. He seemed to be embracing her.”
    Sergeant Lamb shifted his feet but Miss