‘You would like me to interview them all?’
‘The whole boiling, if you will, and one after one, as my great-aunt used to put it. I expect they’ll kick a bit, but no doubt you’re used to that kind of reaction.’
‘My private patients are all volunteers, but this is scarcely a private matter. Very well, I will do as you ask. Is there any way of keeping them segregated until I have seen them all?’
‘I’ll tell Mowbray to see to that. We don’t want them swapping news and views until you’ve finished with them. The easiest way to make sure they can’t get together is to hold the interviews at the police station. Would you object to that?’
‘Certainly not, in principle; in practice, however, there is the difficulty that I have no idea how long each interview may take. We can scarcely lock them in separate police cells for the night. However, we must hope for the best. What are Mrs Veryan’s plans? She will have to be one of my victims, I suppose, although I have already seen her.’
‘You might like to see her first, then.’
‘Very well. After that I should like the others in this order: my godson, Miss Priscilla, Mrs Saltergate, Tom Hassocks, Miss Fiona, Mr Tynant, Dr Lochlure, Mr Saltergate.’
The Chief Constable wrote the names in a column, showed them to her and then mentioned the two workmen.
‘I do not intend to talk to them at present,’ she said. ‘Later on I may see them, but only if all other approaches fail.’
‘Oh, I agree. It is most unlikely that they can contribute anything. Whatever Saltergate may have said to Veryan (and vice versa) would not have been said in front of the men.’
Nobody else but Laura was present at the interviews. She was there to take shorthand notes and was placed at a table a little apart from Dame Beatrice and whoever Dame Beatrice was questioning.
Grace Veryan this time was composed and businesslike. She said she had been told that everybody was to be interviewed and that she was afraid she was going to be of very little help as a source of information. No, she had no idea that Malpas had been interested in astronomy. He must have taken it up after they had parted. He had never mentioned it when they met.
‘How often did you meet?’ Dame Beatrice enquired. ‘I assume that you refer to meetings after the divorce.’
‘Oh, off and on, quite a number of times. It was always when other people were present, but we had many mutual friends and we made it clear that neither of us would find it in the least embarrassing to meet at their houses. There was no animosity between us. As a matter of fact, Malpas asked me to join him on this dig, but I had already accepted Martha Gwent’s invitation to cruise on her yacht.’
‘Would you have joined him but for that?’
‘No. I should have found another excuse.’
‘Professor Veryan died on Sunday night. When did you say you heard the news?’
‘Not until first thing on Tuesday morning.’
‘Will you ask the policeman on the door to send my godson Monkswood in?’
Bonamy was on his best behaviour. He called his godmother “Dame Beatrice” throughout the interview, sat up straight in his chair, did not so much as glance in Laura’s direction and had even put on a formal suit and a tie.
‘Now, then,’ said Dame Beatrice briskly, ‘I have others to see, so let us despatch you and yours in as short a time as possible. You appear to have no alibi for the night of the murder.’
‘Murder? So it’s called that openly, is it?’
‘Do you care to amend your previous statement?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Why should I?’
‘First, because it may not be the truth.’
‘Oh, look, Dame Beatrice! I mean – well, I say! You don’t think I’d lie to the police!’
‘Second, because you are exposing yourself to a certain amount of suspicion and, in any case, are not following the general trend if you do not supply me with a better story.’
‘I can’t help that.’
‘I suppose a girl is involved.’
‘Oh, well, dammit, no! You mustn’t take any notice of that blighter Tom.’
‘I am sure that she would prefer to be involved in what might be called her private capacity, than in the full glare of a public appearance in the witness-box.’
Bonamy took his time. He stared thoughtfully at the table-top, looked across at his godmother, looked down again and then laughed.
‘No, Dame Beatrice,’ he said, ‘you don’t bluff me like that. I’m sticking to what I said. I cruised around with Tom, we slept in the tent or in the car and we finished up on the Sunday night in your paddock. We went for breakfast at the William Rufus in your village and landed ourselves on you for lunch.’
‘And that is still your story?’
‘That is still my story, Dame Beatrice.’
‘Very well. Ask Miss Yateley to come in.’
Priscilla, given the chair which Bonamy had vacated, took off her spectacles, blinked nervously at Dame Beatrice, put them on again and said, ‘All right, I’ll come clean. No, I didn’t go to my friends. I went to London.’
‘Yes? Why was that?’
‘I wanted some fun.’
‘Did you get it?’
‘No.’
‘Did you go with Miss Broadmayne?’
‘No. I went alone by train on the Friday evening. I got beastly drunk on Saturday evening and spent the night in the waiting-room at the station. I came back on the first train on Monday morning.’
‘Sunday is the important day, so far as this enquiry is concerned.’
‘I had Sunday breakfast in the station restaurant and then I joined a march. Some marchers took me home with them and we all spent the night on the floor of the house where they were squatting.’
‘Where was this?’
‘Somewhere in Battersea, I think. I crept out at first light on Monday and caught a workmen’s bus to Paddington and Fiona was waiting for me with Tom’s car at this end, so we came back to the caravan together, as we had arranged.’
‘I see. What made you decide to change your story?’
‘I didn’t want to embarrass my friends at the farm. They would either have had to tell lies for me or to have given away the fact that I did not visit them. When we first knew of Professor Veryan’s death it never occurred to any of us that one of our party might be blamed for it, so I suppose we all told the police what we ought to have been doing instead of what we actually did do. We had no idea that our statements would be challenged, especially by anybody like you, but now I expect the truth will come out because we are all scared.’
‘Not always a state of mind in which truth prevails. Thank you, Miss Yateley. Please ask for Mrs Saltergate.’
Lilian came straight to the point.
‘I was on the top of the keep with Malpas from about ten o’clock until eleven-thirty,’ she said. ‘When I left him up there he was alive and well.’
‘Can you prove that?’
‘No, I cannot, but I assure you it was so.’
‘Are you interested in astronomy?’
‘To the extent that every intelligent person is interested in it. After all, one lives in the Space Age.’
‘Did the suggestion that you should join him come from Professor Veryan or yourself?’
‘From me, of course, prompted by Edward. Edward wanted an hour in which to survey the trench without interruption.’
‘So you were a decoy.’
‘Yes, and a peace-offering after the quarrel. Anyhow, I managed to find a number of stars and planets which necessitated Malpas’s having to look away from the outer bailey and answer my questions.’
‘Could your husband carry out a survey in the dark?’
‘Certainly not. He had two storm lanterns on iron rods which could be fixed in the ground and a very powerful electric torch. The conditions were not ideal, but at least he had uninterrupted access to the excavation without Malpas’s being down there.’