‘Well, on the way to the carpark I had a skid on some wet leaves and hit a tree. Oh, no real damage done, and I’m going to tell Erica that I’m afraid I’ve marked her paint, but it has suddenly come to me that the police might decide to take a look at the car.’
‘And think their own thoughts when they spot the marks? I shouldn’t worry. I’m quite sure the scratches made by a tree-trunk wouldn’t in the least resemble the marks made by the impact of a girl on a bike. Besides, we’ll all back you up. You know that. Anyway, I’m glad you thought of it and told me. It can’t have been very serious, or you would have told the three of us when you got back from the carpark.’
‘It was dark, so I don’t know what the damage is. It can’t be anything much, because I corrected the skid and really only skimmed the tree.’
‘Tell Erica in the morning and we’ll go down and take a look. Meanwhile, forget it and go to sleep.’
‘What did you two tell them at the police station?’
‘Only what we’ve already told you. The girl was dead. We didn’t touch the body—that is to say, Erica didn’t and I didn’t go down into the dip. We picked up the bicycle to see what the damage was and got a bit of a rocket from the superintendent because we had probably messed up any fingerprints there might be on the handlebars.’
‘That was unfair. You didn’t know at that point that the girl was dead. Was it just an accident, do you think?’
‘I have no idea. Anyway, whether she was knocked off her bike by a car or whether the convict had had a go at her, somebody had dragged her away from the roadside and tried to hide the body, that’s for sure. What’s more, whoever it was must have been in a bit of a flap, or he would have hidden the bike, too. It was a clear giveaway to leave it at the roadside where anybody passing would spot it.’
‘I don’t know so much. Leaving it at the roadside would look as though a car had hit it, so, as the convict wouldn’t have had a car, that would tend to tell in his favour, wouldn’t it?’
‘Then why try to hide the body?’
‘Oh, to make it look as though the car-driver had taken the girl to hospital, I suppose.’
In the far bedroom the subject of conversation was on the same lines. ‘Do the police think the convict did it?’ asked Tamsin.
‘I couldn’t say. The police are like the doctors. They never tell you what they’re thinking if they can possibly help it.’
‘The bicycle being damaged makes it look more like a car accident with a hit-and-run driver, wouldn’t you say?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I say. It is what the police think that counts. Go to sleep. I need to be fresh and bright when I meet them in the morning.’
‘The police?’
‘Who else? Don’t you realise there’s a fair chance they’ll decide I could have been the driver who killed that girl?’
‘But you and Isobel went to them straight away and reported finding the body.’
‘That doesn’t prove it wasn’t my car which killed her.’
That there was considerable substance in this remark was proved in the middle of the next morning. Apart from some necessary shopping which was done at the little shop near the warden’s office, nobody felt inclined for an outing and, after what had been said the night before, nobody was surprised when a detective-inspector and a sergeant turned up, just after the mid-morning coffee and biscuits had been cleared away, and asked for an interview.
Erica, as usual, answered the door.
‘Good morning, miss. Detective-Inspector Ribble and Sergeant Nene. May we come in?’
‘Of course.’
‘Thank you, miss. Just one or two points and then we would like you to accompany us to your carpark. You were the driver, I believe you told the superintendent, miss.’
‘Yes, I was. Won’t you sit down?’
‘Thank you, miss. Would you repeat what you reported yesterday about the route you took?’ Erica repeated the information she had supplied at the police station. ‘So you did not pass through Gledge End on your return?’
‘Only on our outward journey. We went there to locate the church hall where there is to be an entertainment for which we have tickets.’
‘Then you went on to —’ he looked at the sergeant, who turned to his notebook and read aloud.
‘That’s right,’ said Erica, when he had finished.
‘So you were almost home when you saw the bicycle. I suppose it was getting near dusk by that time?’
‘Oh, no, there was plenty of daylight left.’
‘So you hadn’t switched on the car lights?’
‘It wasn’t necessary.’
‘Well, not in your opinion, anyway. I would like you to accompany me to the carpark. You were the driver when the bicycle came into view?’
‘Yes, I drove the whole time until after we found the body. I was shaken up and thought I’d better not drive after that.’
‘I took over,’ said Hermione, ‘and there is something I ought to tell you before you inspect the car.’
‘Oh, yes, miss? What would that be?’
‘I scratched the paint, I think, when the car skidded.’
‘Oh, it skidded, did it?’
‘Yes, on some slippery fallen leaves. I corrected the skid, but I think in doing so I slightly bumped a tree.’
‘You — or somebody else — certainly bumped something, miss. We have already looked at the car.’
‘In that case,’ said Erica, ‘why do you want me to look at it?’
‘The car is marked, miss. Whether by a tree or a bicycle we don’t yet know.’
‘Oh, look here!’ said Isobel. ‘Our car never touched that bicycle!’
Erica returned from the carpark unaccompanied by the police, but she was looking worried.
‘The car is marked all right,’ she said. ‘They don’t exactly say they don’t believe me, and it was good of you, Hermy, to speak up the way you did, but I’m afraid I’m for it. That policeman has got it all worked out, I think. He believes we ran down that girl and realised what we’d done — I mean that we’d killed her. He thinks we panicked and tried to hide the body and then thought again and decided to report it. He also thinks we concocted that story Hermy told about the skid just to account for the marks on the car.’
‘Oh, dear, what a mess!’ wailed Tamsin.
‘But, look,’ said Isobel, ‘if the tree made marks on the car, the car must have made marks on the tree. Hermy, you probably know more or less whereabouts you were when you had the skid. The road ought to show some signs of it, and then all we have to do is to find the tree. Besides, surely their forensic experts, or whoever delves into these police things, can spot the difference between marks made by hitting a bike and marks made by bashing into a tree.’
‘I didn’t bash into it. I only sort of skimmed it. There might not be any recognisable marks on the tree at all.’
‘But if the car is marked?’ said Tamsin.
‘That’s the worst of this cheap paint they put on cars nowadays,’ said Isobel. ‘Come on, Hermy. Let’s go and see if we can spot this tree of yours. Mind you watch your step ! There may be a copper behind every bush keeping a suspicious eye on us.’
‘I’ll tell you what else I’m going to do,’ said Hermione, when they were outside the cabin. ‘Do you know what I think? I think the police have some reason for not suspecting that convict.’
‘Picked him up before the girl was killed?’
‘It’s more than likely.’
‘I hadn’t thought of that. If that’s so, then we, and especially poor old Erica, really are in the cart. So what’s your idea?’
‘To go straight to the telephone before we begin looking for trees and skidmarks and call up my great-aunt, only hoping she is free and at home. She will get us out of this mess if anybody can and a good old mess I think it’s going to be.’