Physically the Wolseley was an oven, spiritually it was an ice-box. You could almost feel the waves of refrigerating hate coming from the angry woman in the rear. Upright she sat, like a tiny princess. Her dark, flashing eyes tried to drill holes in Gently’s unexpressive back.
‘I still don’t understand, inspector!’
‘I regret the necessity, ma’am.’
‘I have already been into Norchester once this afternoon. If you had anything to ask me, it could surely be asked at “Willow Street”!’
‘We require your presence, ma’am.’
‘I shall certainly consult my solicitor!’
The briefest of ironic smiles flitted across Gently’s homely features as he pulled out to slide past a truck. He had been on the phone at ‘Willow Street’ before Mrs Lammas got back.
But the smile didn’t last. He was quite frankly a bit out of his depth. The more he delved into this case, the more perplexing it seemed to get. The more you found out, the less did it add up into a coherent and satisfying whole… as though each new piece in the jigsaw threw the others just a little out of true.
But they were all legitimate pieces — they had to fit into it somewhere!
And yet…
He banged on his horn and shook a wandering cyclist.
Well, you went on asking questions, and let the theory take care of itself.
The city was buzzing with the news of Cheerful Annie’s demise and the resultant manhunt. It leapt from the fly-sheets and made banner heads across both locals and Londons.
MANHUNT FOR MAD KILLER — link-up with Broads slaying, ran one of the latter. Body Taken From Dyke — Police Searching Marshes, said the more conservative Eastern Evening Star.
Gently pulled over to a news-stand and bought a sheaf. No mention of. 22 bullets… the Londons were guessing. ‘The Police are still eager to contact the chauffeur, Joseph Hicks, missing since the discovery of the remains of James William Lammas in a burnt-out yacht a few miles from the scene of last night’s tragedy. They believe he could assist them in their inquiries.’ A question of two and two!
‘Here… you may not have seen this.’
He handed the papers back to his icy passenger.
‘Another reason why we specially want you at Headquarters.’
She wouldn’t even bother to make a comment.
Hansom was waiting on the steps, looking badgered and ready to bite someone. But he cheered up at the sight of Mrs Lammas… wasn’t he free, white and forty-one? A quick glance passed between him and Gently.
‘This way, ma’am… we shan’t keep you waiting.’
He led her down the corridor and opened the door of an interrogation-room. Gently hung back and waited till the door was safely closed again.
‘You managed to pick him up?’
‘Yeah — but not without some agony.’
‘Never mind, as long as you’ve got him. Are there any results on that stuff I sent in?’
‘The rayon fits for sure — it came off the night-dress.’
‘But what about the rest?’
‘Someone has been very clever! There’s nothing on the tube — it’d been out in the weather. The shoe-box was weathered too. It had a nice set of your prints and a dirty smudge on the lid.’
‘That’d be Thatcher’s paw! But what about the notes?’
Hansom laughed nastily. ‘That’s where someone was clever. First of all they’d replaced the paper bands with rubber bands — you probably noticed that. Then they’d removed the top and bottom note from each bundle, making ninety-eight to a bundle instead of a hundred. Result, a clean bill of health. We can’t even trace the clerk who paid them over the counter.’
Gently nodded ponderingly. ‘Sounds a bit too intelligent for the average run in chauffeurs.’
‘That’s what I thought, but of course you never know.’
‘This romp on the marsh… has it flushed anything yet?’
‘Not a blasted sausage and the super’s as peeved as hell.’
‘Well… here’s an outside tip. I don’t promise it will pay off. Take a search warrant and two or three men and see what you can find at “High Meadow”, Ollby — that’s Marsh’s place. I’d put your men out back, by the way… there’s a plantation sheltering the house which might have been put there to fade into.’
‘You mean that house near the turn?’ stared Hansom.
‘Yes, and give the servants a once-over. I’m particularly interested to know what happened there on Friday evening.’
‘You darned-well bet I will!’
‘And ring through here.’
Hansom departed at great pace, the gleam of the hunter in his eye. Gently stood still a moment, gazing after the vanishing form. Then he sighed very softly to himself and turned the handle of the interrogation room door.
The Headquarters of the Norchester City Police was a modern building, completed shortly before the Second World War. Outside it was a well-flavoured and handsome pile in Portland brick and stone. Inside it bore an unhappy resemblance to a requisitioned morgue and the interrogation room was no exception to the prevailing climate. It was bleak and inherently depressing. The steel desk, steel chairs and steel filing-cabinets did nothing to relieve the gloom. Once you set foot in here, they seemed to say, you were as good as lost… you might just as well confess to something and have done. Mere innocence was stripped off you at the doorway.
The room, however, seemed to have made little impression on Mrs Lammas. It was doubtful whether she had even noticed it. She had appropriated the desk with her handbag and gloves, lit a cigarette and now stood glowering at nothing, in the centre of the floor.
‘Won’t you sit down, ma’am?’
Disdainfully she perched herself on the edge of the nearest chair. It seemed positively gigantic in relation to her. Gently glanced at the rather-superior chair behind the desk, but decided not. He sat down on the desk itself.
‘To begin with, I want you to know that this interview is informal.’
She breathed scathing smoke at him. Her cigarette was coloured and slightly perfumed.
‘What you may tell me now won’t be used as evidence unless you give your permission. It’s between you and me, without any witnesses.’
‘Thank you. But I am well aware of what is evidence and what is not.’
‘Then that point’s settled! Now — would you like to do the talking?’
‘Talking? What about?’
‘Why… about your movements on Friday.’
She stared at him without emotion. The cigarette hung like a pink ornament between two exquisite fingers.
‘Be good enough to explain! You are no longer satisfied with my statement?’
‘Not really, Mrs Lammas. That’s why I’m giving you this opportunity.’
‘An opportunity, indeed!’
‘Yes… to explain certain facts.’
‘What precious facts are they?’
‘Some rather serious ones which have come to my notice.’
She stubbed out the cigarette. It was only half-smoked. In the stuffy atmosphere the scented fumes lingered in a faint miasma.
‘You will kindly tell me the facts.’
He nodded without looking at her. ‘I’ll tell you what I can prove
… perhaps you’d like to go on from there. In the first place you had a call about the bad cheque from your husband’s head clerk. You went to the office. You discovered what your husband was up to. You discovered about Linda Brent and the trip on the Harrier. You told the head clerk to keep quiet about your having been there. And in the evening you went looking for your husband and making inquiries as to his whereabouts.’
‘That’s all you can prove?’ Her question came like a whip-crack.
‘Yes… just for the moment. Though there are a few subsidiary points — like your fingerprints being on the drawer that contained the gun.’
‘That is readily explainable.’
‘I know. But it’s still evidence.’
‘I am prepared to admit everything you have found out.’
‘It would be hard to do otherwise.’
‘Nor do I agree with you that it is particularly serious — I am quite certain that you wouldn’t venture to base a charge upon it.’
‘Is that to be your answer?’
‘Do you really expect any other?’
‘I think it’s reasonable to expect you to bring your statement up to date… since you’re admitting that it’s substantially untrue.’
Mrs Lammas reached for her bag and took out a fresh cigarette. A jewelled lighter no larger than a walnut clicked and flamed. This time the cigarette was blue… its aroma was subtly different, Gently noticed.
‘It’s the evening you want to know about, isn’t it?’ she breathed.
‘Naturally…’
‘If I was looking for my husband, then I might conceivably have found my husband — and put him out of the way.’
‘As you say… conceivably.’
‘But that isn’t what you think.’ There was scorn in her tone. ‘You’re the sort of fool who’d warn me, according to the rules. You’re too sentimental to be a good policeman, Chief Inspector Gently.’
‘It’s the good policeman who sticks by the rules… but we won’t go into that! Where did you go from Halford?’
‘Is that where I admitted I went?’
‘The petrol-pump attendant recognized you.’
‘Then I certainly wouldn’t bother to deny it.’
She paused deliberately to puff and exhale, her brown eyes examining him with unfeigned calculation.
‘Where do you say I went, inspector — even though you can’t prove it? You said our conversation was to be informal.’
‘I’m not sure of my evidence… that’s why I’m asking. But it might impress a jury more than it does me.’
‘How very intriguing! Then it would make up your charge for you?’
‘It might form the basis of one, unless I hear something different.’
‘And I won’t tell you different, will I, because I’m not impressed with your secret evidence. We seem to have reached an impasse, inspector — or shall we say you are being a little clumsy?’
Gently looked at her woodenly. She was feeling well on top now! It wasn’t even worth being angry with him when she could lead him on so adroitly. And she knew where she stood, this diamond-sharp little woman — she wasn’t to be frightened by talk of charges or long faces!
‘We’re not getting far.’
He grunted and got off the desk.
‘We aren’t, really, are we?’
‘No… so it’s time we had some help!’
Dramatically he strode across the room and threw open the dividing door. A tall, dark-haired man sitting on a chair immediately opposite quickly looked up. And for the second time in two days Gently’s ears rang to the blood-curdling shrill of Mrs Lammas’ scream.
‘This is completely illegal!’
Henry Marsh was trying to establish his dignity, while Mrs Lammas clung whimpering to his arm.
‘You had no right to bring me here to play this trick on Mrs Lammas!’
He was a good-looking man, though his grey eyes ran a little close. He had a large, straight nose, a broad, curving jaw, a sharp chin and small, neat ears. He wore a clipped moustache and a lot of long hair brushed straight back.
‘I shall consider whether it is actionable — I assure you there will be some very unpleasant repercussions!’
Gently shrugged and took his seat, this time behind the steel desk.
‘There are other things which have unpleasant repercussions, Mr Marsh… withholding evidence is one of them, especially for gentlemen in your profession.’
‘Withholding evidence! What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that certain information has been received concerning yourself and Mrs Lammas and the events of Friday night… information which, in the light of the interlude you are at present acting, I believe to be correct.’
‘Sir… I warn you to be careful!’
‘I assure you, Mr Marsh, that I shall be most careful.’
‘You are dealing with a solicitor now!’
‘The point had not escaped my notice.’
Marsh glanced down at Mrs Lammas as though he would rather have liked to free himself from her handicapping grapple, but she was much too firmly ensconced. He resigned himself to a part of injured nobility. Gently stubbed the bell-push on the desk.
‘I take it you will make a statement?’
‘I could refuse, sir, without the slightest prejudice.’
‘Naturally, I shall divulge the extent of my information.’
‘You can scarcely expect a statement unless you do.’
Mrs Lammas moaned faintly and disengaged her head from Marsh’s waistcoat.
‘Let me tell him, Henry… I’m the only one he cares about.’
‘No, Phyllis! You must say nothing further unless I advise it.’
‘He’s a devil, Henry… for God’s sake let me get it over with!’
‘We are not obliged to tell him anything except in explanation of this alleged information.’
There was a tap at the door and there entered a shorthand Constable and a plain-clothes man. They took up their positions obsequiously, although the plain-clothes man indulged in a hard, police-issue stare with its faint overtones of penal servitude. Mrs Lammas suddenly separated herself from her protector and went back to her chair. Marsh hitched up his trousers, looked round and took a seat nearer to the desk.
‘Your full name and address?’
Marsh rattled off particulars without the slightest need of prompting.
‘Now… the information is this. You, Henry George Marsh, have, since about Christmas of last year, enjoyed an intimate relationship with Phyllis Thais Lammas. Would you like to comment on that before I go any further?’
Marsh shook his head briefly and Gently continued:
‘On Friday, June 23rd, Phyllis Lammas went to her husband’s place of business in Norchester and there learned that he had realized his assets, that he had hired the yacht Harrier from June 17th till June 24th, that he was on terms suggesting intimacy with his secretary Linda Brent, and that Linda Brent had been absent from the office since she left it on June 17th midday. Following this discovery Phyllis Lammas made a telephone call of twenty minutes, which she attempted to conceal. It is suggested that she made the call to you.’
Gently paused again, and again Marsh confined himself to a shake of the head. Mrs Lammas, however, gave a little start and her small mouth shaped the word ‘Paul!’ Marsh made a gesture to her.
‘On Friday evening Phyllis Lammas drove from her home at “Willow Street”, Wrackstead to Halford Quay, where she made inquiries after the whereabouts of the yacht Harrier, her husband and Linda Brent. She then drove to your private house, “High Meadows”, at Ollby. She was alleged to be there from just after half-past seven till just before half-past nine p.m. I will not have to remind you that during that time her husband, James William Lammas, was shot and killed at a distance of not more than half a mile from “High Meadows” and an attempt made to dispose of his body.
‘This is my information as it affects you… I think you will see the necessity of giving a complete and accurate statement of all that took place that evening.’
Marsh took his time. He was clearly not a person to be rattled. With his fingertips placed together he had listened intently to what was said and now he was examining it, testing it and adding up its implications.
A tough nut he’d be for a prosecution to crack.
At last he was ready. One hand clenched and struck firmly into the other.
‘As regards the first part of your information, I do not propose to make a statement.’
Gently nodded. He hadn’t really expected one.
‘Mrs Lammas stands to me in the relation of a client to her solicitor. That is all I have to say about that. But with regard to the remainder, I am not so unreasonable as to offer no explanation, though I have no intention of going further than what you say seems to require.
‘It will be unfortunate, Mr Marsh, if you withold anything material.’
‘I shall use my discretion, sir, as to what I consider material.’
Gently shrugged and made a gesture. It wasn’t everyone who took the trouble to warn you.
‘I have said that Mrs Lammas stands to me in the relation of a client to her solicitor. It was therefore not unnatural that she should contact me after learning that her husband had illegally realized the capital of the firm of Lammas Wholesalers, Limited, in which, you will be pleased to remember, she is a shareholder, though a small one. She had also to discuss the consequences of his apparent disappearance in the company of his secretary.’
‘Excuse me, Mr Marsh… but was it so natural to discuss these matters on the telephone?’
‘I was merely given the heads, sir-’
‘Wouldn’t she have called in, or made an appointment?’
‘Certainly. And an appointment was made.’
‘And that was the whole substance of a twenty-minute call?’
Marsh hesitated, but it was only the hesitation of a master-fencer who discretely withdraws from an awkward position.
‘There was, of course, subsidiary matter… we are all human, all liable to emotion in time of stress. I do not think the subsidiary matter is relevant to the present purpose.’
‘You were not surprised, then, that she didn’t straight away call on you at your office… it isn’t far from her husband’s… directly she made this distressing discovery? Or for that matter that she didn’t straight away phone?’
Marsh hesitated again, but still on perfect balance.
‘That is something my client must answer. I have no doubt she will. I have no doubt that when you put the question to her she will tell you that at the time of the discovery she was completely stunned and unable to think out a coherent course of action. I would not be surprised to hear my client give such an answer to such a question.’
Gently nodded admiringly. ‘Thank you, Mr Marsh. I must remember to ask her! Would you continue your statement?’
Marsh rubbed his hands as though rinsing from them the previous issue.
‘My client’s problem was pressing and required immediate attention. Unfortunately I was engaged at the time she called me, which would be at about 4 p.m., so I consented to see her in the evening at my residence. This is an unusual but not an unprecedented occurrence. A lawyer, like a doctor, must be prepared to see his clients at irregular hours. The appointment, as you have been informed, was for half-past seven and for approximately the next two hours Mrs Lammas and myself were engaged in a consultation, details of which will not concern you. She apprised me, however, of the inquiries she had made at Halford. She had undertaken them to confirm, if possible, what she had learned in the morning. With reference to the frightful tragedy taking place across the marshes, we neither knew of it nor saw anything to report. For this reason I advised my client, when the fact became known, to say nothing of a visit to a spot in such close proximity to the scene of the crime, a circumstance which must lay her open to quite unwarranted suspicion and interference.
‘This, sir, is the extent to which I have withheld evidence or caused it to be withheld. I think you must agree that I have transgressed neither against the law nor against the code of my profession, and that it was as unnecessary as unworthy to play this trick of yours on my respectable and bereaved client, Mrs James William Lammas.’
It was well done, and he knew it was well done. He placed his fingertips together again and sat back a little in his chair. Gently grunted and twisted a spill of paper he had been working up. A good story, even if it did leave out a few of the facts!
‘This place of yours… “High Meadows”… it’s quite a substantial property, isn’t it?’
‘A desirable small residence. I suppose you could call it that.’
‘Six or eight bedrooms, perhaps… I’ve only seen it from the road.’
‘There are eight bedrooms, if you wish to be precise.’
‘You’d need one or two domestics, eh?’
Marsh saw it coming, but he couldn’t prevent it. He did the next best thing and took it by the horns.
‘There are three who live in, but they cannot confirm my statement. They happened to be out on the evening in question.’
Gently’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You mean all three together?’
‘Yes. I had given them tickets for a show in Norchester.’
It was smoothly said, but there was anxiety underneath it. Gently was watching the hands grow white above the knuckles.
‘When did you give them the tickets, Mr Marsh?’
‘At tea-time, I believe.’
‘That was after you had spoken with Mrs Lammas on the phone — after you had returned from the office, in fact?’
‘It was, but I had planned the treat earlier.’
‘You mean that they were looking forward to it?’
‘No… I kept it for a surprise.’
‘Then in view of Mrs Lammas’ appointment you could easily have cancelled it?’
Marsh shifted his expensive brogues. ‘I’m afraid it was out of my mind… when I had given them the tickets, I realized that I ought not to have done. But you will be kind enough to remember that I was not expecting police investigation. It was not likely to become known that Mrs Lammas visited me when I was alone.’
‘It has become known now, Mr Marsh, and I am not quite happy about the details. What show was this your servants went to?’
‘It was a musical entertainment… The King’s Rhapsody was the title. I really must protest at this irrelevant cross-examination!’
‘At “The Theatre Royal”?’
‘Yes, at “The Theatre Royal”.’
‘When did you obtain the three tickets?’
‘I picked them up on my way from the office.’
‘You mean in the afternoon, after you had spoken to Mrs Lammas on the phone?’
‘Naturally… but I had booked the seats by phone earlier.’
‘How much earlier — was it in the morning?’
‘No… I think not.’
‘It was during the afternoon, then?’
‘Yes, it would have been the afternoon.’
‘But before you had your talk with Mrs Lammas?’
‘I… cannot exactly remember.’
‘Then it was after you had your talk with Mrs Lammas?’
‘I have said I cannot exactly remember! My mind was greatly taken up with matters of business… no doubt I utilized some spare moments, but when it is impossible to say.’
‘This is humiliating!’
Mrs Lammas had risen to her feet.
‘Henry, I will not permit you to be harried and questioned like this on my behalf!’
There was emotion in her face now.
‘Don’t you see that he’s going to know these things, in spite of you, in spite of me? How do you know what he’s got up his sleeve! He’ll have already checked with “The Theatre Royal” booking-office and heaven knows where else — he just sits there playing with us, knowing it all — ready to pounce on the slightest evasion!’
‘Phyllis…!’ Marsh put out a restraining hand.
‘I don’t care, Henry! I hate it. I hate them. The police are filthy, filthy, filthy! How can we call this a civilization when we have dirty people like this living amongst us — people who can tyrannize and dictate and make us submit to their sadistic prying? Tell them what they want to know! Tell them, and let us be rid of them! I’ve felt sick ever since I set foot in this place and if I don’t get out soon, I shall be sick!’
Even Marsh didn’t know what to say in the silence that followed. An outburst like this was not envisaged by the rules of the game.
Gently twisted his spill round a stubby finger.
‘Of course, our sadistic spying relates to two sadistic civilian murders…’
‘You are worse than they! A hangman is the moral inferior of a murderer!’
‘But a murderer is no great shakes…’
‘At least he has the courage of his crime!’
Marsh cleared his throat. His impressive features seemed to have grown tighter, gaunter.
‘Phyllis, you really must control yourself and let me handle this matter. You are making a great mistake to allow this man to unsettle you.’
‘I will speak, Henry! I can’t keep silent any longer.’
‘You are giving him a quite gratuitous advantage.’
‘I don’t care any more. I just want to get out of this beastly place!’
‘Please remember that you may involve another person.’
‘He could not be more involved than he is at present.’
‘I cannot agree with you-’
‘I’m sorry, Henry. I’ve had as much as I can stand.’
She came to the front of the desk and stood there, her head and shoulders barely rising above it. Marsh’s hands were tightly clasped together. His eyes were fixed on her appealingly.
‘Please instruct your man to take this down, Chief Inspector Gently.’
‘I think I ought to warn you that it may be used as evidence.’
‘Use it for what you like — but for heaven’s sake take it down!’
Gently nodded to the shorthand Constable, who had got rather put out by the preceding exchanges.
‘You want to know if Henry and me are lovers. Very well — we are! We have been in love since Christmas, as your informant very accurately told you. I take it that it was Paul? My son discovered this and threatened me. He threatened to tell my husband, unless the affair was terminated. If my husband had come to know of it he would undoubtedly have divorced me — so there is your motive, inspector! I had not the slightest intention of being divorced.
‘I have admitted going to the office on Friday and to discovering how matters stood. I now admit to the telephone call, in which I arranged to meet Henry in the evening, if I could shake off Paul. The call was not made from the office owing to the presence of the head clerk and I didn’t go to see Henry because I knew Paul was following me about. In the evening I was foolish enough to believe I had got rid of him, so I set out in my Rover. Before I went I spoke to Hicks. I instructed him to let me know immediately if my husband got in touch with him… my husband had just bought a new Daimler and I thought it unlikely that he would leave it behind.’
‘Just a moment, please!’ Gently was leaning forward. ‘What else did you tell Hicks… he was a confidential servant, wasn’t he?’
‘I told him what I thought necessary. Hicks is very loyal and discreet.’
‘Did you tell him what had happened at the business?’
‘I wanted him to understand the seriousness of the affair.’
‘What I’m getting at, Mrs Lammas, is whether or not he knew that your husband might have a large sum of money in his possession.’
‘I didn’t tell him so, but I suppose he could have deduced it from what I did tell him.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Lammas… please continue your statement.’
‘Before going to Ollby I went to Halford Quay. It had occurred to me that if my husband were returning with the Harrier he would be in the neighbourhood of Halford Quay. As you have taken such pains to find out, I did get news of him, and this confirmed what I had discovered at the office. So I continued to “High Meadows”… you were quite correct in assuming that Henry got rid of the servants on purpose.
‘I arrived there at twenty minutes to eight. We discussed the situation and what I was to do. Shortly before nine o’clock-’
Marsh was on his feet. There was a tinge of pallor in his hitherto ruddy complexion.
‘Phyllis, I protest! What you are going to say is positively suicidal!’
She turned to him coldly. ‘I am going to tell him all, Henry.’
‘But this is unnecessary… there is no need for them to know it! I beg you to stop a moment and consider the implications!’
‘Mr Marsh… you will kindly sit down.’ Gently’s voice sounded stony.
‘Sir, I have a right to consult with my client!’
‘But not to hinder a witness.’
‘She is about to incriminate both of us wilfully!’
‘It will rest on her evidence — sit down, sir, or I must have you removed.’
The plain-clothes sergeant half-rose to give colour to the warning and Marsh sank back, almost involuntarily, into his chair.
‘Go on, Mrs Lammas.’
Marsh groaned and held a hand to his face.
‘I was saying that shortly before nine o’clock we were a little alarmed to hear a car approaching the house. Henry peeped out and saw that it was my husband’s Daimler with Hicks at the wheel. He had come to tell me that my husband had rung for him, and that he was just going to pick up Mr Lammas and his luggage from the yacht, which was moored at the head of Ollby Dyke.’
‘He told you where the yacht was?’
‘I have just said that he did.’
‘But when you knew that, wouldn’t you have gone down to the yacht with Hicks with the purpose of frustrating your husband’s plan to disappear?’
‘God help you, Phyllis!’ exclaimed Marsh. ‘I tried to warn you what you would let yourself in for!’
Mrs Lammas shrugged impatiently. ‘It is reasonably plain why I did not! In the first place, I began to doubt whether my husband really intended more than an illicit week with his mistress. I had never expected him to do more than ask Hicks to leave the Daimler at a garage for him. In the second place, he could not be out of my sight while he was with Hicks. Hicks would have kept me constantly informed of his movements.’
Gently nodded imperceptibly.
‘Did Hicks know where they were going?’
‘No. He had not been told.’
‘He wouldn’t have mentioned meeting Paul outside?’
Mrs Lammas bit her lip.
‘I knew nothing of Paul’s escapade until I got home!’
‘Then that was really all that happened?’
‘Yes. Now you know about everything.’
Gently looked at her ponderingly, and then at the despairing Marsh.
‘I wonder,’ he said, ‘I wonder, Mrs Lammas…!’
The telephone rang. It was Hansom reporting nothing from ‘High Meadows’. Almost as soon as Gently laid it down it rang again, and this time it was Dutt.
‘I got it, sir… it’s in the bag! I found the place at the fifteenth flipping time of asking!’
‘What’s the address, Dutt?’
‘Beach Lane, Summerton, sir. It’s a summer bungalow, like what you said.’
‘Well… get along over! We’ll go and have a breath of sea air.’
‘Yessir. Right away, sir. Be with you in just ten minutes.’
Gently hooked on the phone again and sat staring at the desk in front of him. Then he turned to Mrs Lammas and Marsh.
‘Righto, then. That’s all for today! I won’t say I’m satisfied, because it’d be a long way from the truth. You’ll be good enough not to leave the district. I say this without prejudice, Mr Marsh! I’d like you to hold yourself ready for further questioning.’
Mrs Lammas picked up her bag and gloves. She beckoned to Marsh with a frosty smile.
‘Why bother to conceal anything now?’
He tried to smile back at her.
‘It’s bound to be in the papers — we may as well make the best of it.’
Somehow, Marsh couldn’t echo the buoyancy of his client.