Miss Pollock made her entrance with as much dignity as was possible within the folds of a garment so over-long for her that its hem swept the floor. With her hat still jammed in straight and stern bisection of her forehead, she looked like a helmeted and caped member of a decontamination squad.
At Purbright’s invitation, she perched herself grimly on the edge of a chair. Invisible behind the spare yards of raincoat, her little pointed feet dangled three inches from the floor.
The inspector spoke gently.
“This is a very sad and upsetting affair, Miss Pollock, and I’m sorry that you should be put to the trouble of answering questions so soon afterwards. I am sure you understand, though, that the coroner will have to have a clear picture of what happened, and that it will be best to try and put it together straight away.”
“Yes, I see that, of course.” Her voice was firmer, and colder, than Purbright had expected.
“We have heard,” he went on, “something of the events of this afternoon from the old lady who saw your...your predicament from where she was sitting some forty or fifty yards away. She could not tell us, of course, why you appeared to be running away from Mr Winge, nor for what reason he seemed to be chasing you.”
Ignoring the implicit question, Miss Pollock stared at him blankly.
“Perhaps,” said Purbright, “you could help us with those points.”
Her gaze moved to the window.
“I ran because I was alarmed by Mr Winge’s behaviour. It was quite inexplicable.”
Malley, who liked his witnesses’ depositions to be chronologically straightforward, put in: “Before you say anything about that, Miss Pollock, I’d just like to be clear as to where you both were and what you were doing.”
The inspector nodded.
“We were in a small wood—a spinney, I suppose you might call it—in the far corner of the field.”
“Close against the reservoir?”
“Yes. You see, we had set the old folk off on a game of hide-and-seek, and...”
“Hide-and-seek?” echoed Purbright.
“That is what I said. They like to be occupied, these old people—organized and occupied. But one or two do tend to be laggards, you know, and so we have to give them a lead. That is why Mr Winge suggested that he and I should pretend to be taking part in the game. I went across to the spinney while Mr Winge waited with the old gentlemen. Then he came looking for me—except that he knew where I was, of course.”
“So he joined you in the wood, did he?”
“Yes. We were to wait until all the others were properly on the move and then come back to the coach.”
“You say this had been his suggestion?” the inspector asked.
“Certainly,” declared Miss Pollock, tight-faced.
“You sound as if you had—what shall I say?—misgivings, perhaps?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Mr Winge had already given me the impression that he was not quite himself. I had been obliged to change seats on the coach soon after we left town.”
Purbright did not ask her to elaborate. Malley put the next question.
“What was the alderman’s behaviour in the wood that alarmed you, Miss Pollock?”
“He...he made a suggestion.”
“Yes?”
They waited. Miss Pollock let them.
“What was the suggestion?” Purbright prompted. “It is relevant, you know.”
After further hesitation, she said: “It was an indecent suggestion. It related to something I was wearing.”
“Was wearing?” Malley’s big, gentle face was absolutely innocent.
“Was and am!” snapped Miss Pollock.
“Very well,” Purbright said. “We’ll leave it at that. Mr Winge proposed something that offended your sense of decency. How did you react?”
“I told him that he must be mad. This, I may say, I regretted at once because I realized that madness was the only possible explanation and I was afraid that what I had said might provoke him to violence.”
“And did it?”
“Not immediately. He just laughed and made the same suggestion again. I turned and started to walk away. It was then that he attacked me.”
“Can you describe the attack? What he actually did, I mean.”
“I am not altogether certain, but I think he jumped on me from behind. All I remember now is running and feeling something tugging at me. He must have got hold of my dress. It was not until afterwards that I found it was torn.”
“I understand from the policewoman that you didn’t suffer any harm physically,” Purbright said.
“Well, no—he didn’t hurt me. He didn’t get the chance.”
“I am very glad of that, anyway. Now tell me, Miss Pollock, did you at any time while you were running away look back at Mr Winge?”
“Once, yes. It was just before...just before the accident.”
“You saw him there behind you—running.”
“Yes.”
“And did you notice anything about the way he was running? Was there anything peculiar about it?”
She looked sharply at the inspector, then at Sergeant Malley. “Should there have been?”
Malley shrugged. Purbright said: “I was just wondering.”
“I got no more than a sort of flash of him,” said Miss Pollock, guardedly. “Out of the corner. But it is quite true that he ran in a funny way. I don’t quite know how to describe it. He seemed to have half turned round, if you see what I mean, and to be coming sideways on.”
After a short pause, the inspector said: “And that was the last you saw of him before the accident?”
She nodded.
“Which you heard rather than saw, I presume?”
“I heard a splash, but somehow I didn’t connect it with what had been happening up to then. It was only when I looked back and saw that Mr Winge was not there behind me any more, that I realized that he had fallen in.”
“Did you see him in the water?” Malley asked.
“Not at that time. He had disappeared altogether. But I knew what must have happened because the surface was still rocking and swirling about.”
“You ran for help?”
“Naturally.”
Malley turned to the inspector.
“There’s nothing the lady could have done herself, sir. The reservoir embankment on the water side is very steep just there—more like a wall.”
“Quite,” said Purbright.
He gave Miss Pollock a reassuring smile.
“You’ve been extremely helpful. There is only one more question that I should like to ask—and please don’t take it as reflecting in any way upon yourself. I simply want to know if there was anything you noticed in Mr Winge’s attitude or behaviour before today that suggested his having sexual designs on you or anybody else—on women generally, in fact.”