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As the lovestruck David Lewis returned to school, Lady Lucy wondered if she could be prosecuted for corrupting the young.

Inspector Miles Devereux was back in the Silkworkers Hall. This time there were no bodies by the water, only a hard-working cleaning lady and a pervasive smell of floor polish. He had come to meet the Silkworkers Secretary. He would be the man, in Devereux’s judgement, most likely to know about the voting patterns and the voting timetable of the Silkworkers Company. Fletcher had informed him of his sulphurous interview with Sir Peregrine and the solitary teacup. Devereux wondered if it would be morning coffee for one on this occasion.

The Secretary, Colonel James Horrocks, a retired military man with an enormous moustache and a faint hint of the parade ground still lingering about his person, was not alone. ‘Buckeridge, Inspector, Antony Buckeridge of Buckeridge Johnston and Forsyte, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, solicitors.’ He pronounced the word solicitors very solemnly indeed. ‘Here to keep an eye on things, don’t you know!’

Miles Devereux shook hands with his opponent pleasantly enough, like a man before a duel. He didn’t think there was much the solicitor could do to prevent him finding out what he wanted to know. Buckeridge was in his forties, tall and slim, and he interrupted the proceedings from time to time by sneezing loudly after a pinch of snuff.

‘Colonel Horrocks,’ Devereux began, ‘we would like to know more details of the forthcoming ballot among the members of the Silkworkers Company.’

Horrocks began tapping on the table with his pen. He looked over at his solicitor.

‘I see,’ said Buckeridge. ‘I fail to understand how the internal procedures of my client’s company can be of interest to the police.’

Miles Devereux had seen this tactic before. You could use an interview like this one to discover how much the police knew and where they had obtained the information.

‘It is,’ he said with a wintry smile, ‘for us to decide what is and what is not relevant to our inquiry. I repeat, Colonel Horrocks, we would like to know more details about the forthcoming ballot of members of the Silkworkers Company.’

‘And it is for his legal advisers, Sergeant, to advise on when it is or is not necessary to answer questions. And I am advising him that he need not reply to your request.’

The one thing you must never do in these situations, Miles Devereux said to himself, is to lose your temper. Much better to make the other man lose his. ‘Colonel Horrocks, could I remind you of two things? The first is that we are dealing with a murder inquiry here. And the second is that there is an offence known as obstructing the course of justice. Police officers like myself are perfectly entitled to arrest people who are actively hindering the police in the course of their inquiries. Magistrates do not look kindly on those who hinder the work of officers of the law, particularly in murder cases. I say again, we would like to know more details of the forthcoming ballot among members of the Silkworkers Company.’

There was a pause. Buckeridge shrugged his shoulders and helped himself to some more snuff. Devereux wondered if they had a fallback plan if the initial objections failed to work.

‘There is to be such a ballot,’ Horrocks said finally.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Inspector Devereux. ‘Thank you for cooperating. Now perhaps you could tell us when the ballot is to take place or the date when the relevant papers have to be lodged with the company.’ Devereux didn’t know if the election was going to take place on a single day, or whether the papers were sent out beforehand to all potential electors with a date by which they must be returned.

‘The closing date has not yet been finalized,’ Horrocks said after another long pause.

‘But the voting papers have been sent out?’

‘They have.’

‘But with no fixed date for the return?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘What does not exactly mean?’

Horrocks looked at Buckeridge once more. The solicitor shrugged. Devereux doubted if he had decided to keep quiet for long.

‘The papers had to be returned by the end of February or possibly a little later. That is the date not yet fixed in stone.’

‘Does that mean that the vote could be closed if the organizers decided it had gone the way they wanted? Even if all the votes weren’t in?’

‘Come, come, Sergeant,’ Buckeridge was back, snorting and sneezing, ‘that’s a question of motive or intention, not a matter of fact. I advise you not to answer it, Colonel, there is no need.’

‘And where are the votes kept? The ones that have been sent in?’

‘They’re kept here in this office,’ said Horrocks.

‘And who has access to the papers, the votes?’

‘Well, the senior members of the company, naturally. They all have keys to the safe over there by the window.’

‘Really, Colonel, really? So Sir Peregrine or anybody else with a key could come in and check on the votes? It’s like the cabinet checking on the ballot boxes on election day before the polls have closed.’

‘I object, Sergeant!’ Anthony Buckeridge was getting cross now. Inspector Devereux thought he might be on the verge of losing his temper. ‘The procedures here are all governed by ancient statute. Your assumptions are totally unwarranted and potentially slanderous.’

Ancient statute, Devereux said to himself, that’s good. That wretched codicil. About as ancient as nineteen hundred and eight, if the man from Cambridge was to be believed.

‘Another question for you, Colonel, if I may.’ Horrocks was looking like a boxer who has had quite enough for one day. ‘Did the voting slips mention the place they were going to, if you follow me. Would they have said, Thomas Dixon, Jesus Hospital, Marlow, that sort of thing? Or would the location be omitted?’

‘I object, Sergeant.’

‘It’s Inspector, actually.’ Devereux smiled beatifically at the solicitor. ‘Let’s get our facts right, shall we? I was promoted two years ago.’

‘You are imputing motive to my clients.’

‘What motive am I meant to be implying?’

‘You are implying that my clients might be forging votes if there was no specified location on the ballot paper.’

‘What a suspicious mind you have, Mr Buckeridge! I hadn’t thought of that before. Thank you for drawing it to my attention. I’ve nearly finished, Colonel, just a couple of small points to clear up. What was the total number of those entitled to vote, the size of your electorate, if you like.’

‘Just over seven hundred and fifty,’ he said, ‘seven hundred and sixty-three, including the outstations like the almshouses and the school and so on. The location is specified at the top right-hand corner of the ballot paper.’

‘And do you know how many have voted up until today? There must be some sort of a tally, I presume.’

‘I object.’ Buckeridge had returned to the ring. ‘The voting figures are a private matter for the Silkworkers Company. You do not have to answer that, Colonel.’

‘I’m afraid he does, Mr Buckeridge. Let me repeat the question with another one. Do you know how many have voted up until today? And have the votes come in from the Jesus Hospital in Marlow and Allison’s School in Norfolk?’

‘You do not need to answer that, Colonel. That is private information for the company,’ Buckeridge was looking pleased with himself now.

‘You could probably argue that it should be classified information in normal times, gentlemen.’ Inspector Devereux wasn’t about to lose his temper but he was angry. ‘But these are not normal times. One murder would be bad enough. We are dealing not with one or even two but with three murders, one in this very building, one at the Jesus Hospital and one at Allison’s School in Norfolk. For the last time. How many votes have been cast up till today? And have the votes come in from the Jesus Hospital in Marlow and Allison’s School in Norfolk?’

‘I object.’ Buckeridge was off again. Devereux cut him off.

‘I wouldn’t pursue your objection any further if I were you, Mr Buckeridge. Any further refusal to answer questions, or advice to the same effect, and I shall arrest you both right now for obstructing the police in the course of their duty. It’s your choice. You can spend the rest of the day at liberty. Or you can spend it in a police cell. Our formalities can sometimes take a very long time to complete. In cases like this I have known them spread out into the following day or even the day after that. It’s entirely up to you.’