‘Wherever we put it,’ she smiled at the two policemen, ‘it’s going to make a terrible mess.’
‘Oh grass soon recovers,’ replid Henry. ‘Are you a gardening man, Inspector Barnaby?’
Barnaby indicated that he was and asked if they’d come to any decision yet about the rosarium. This led to a lot of pleasant horticultural chat and to Henry describing his wedding gift for Katherine, which was nineteen old-fashioned moss and climbing roses: ‘A flower for each year of her life.’
‘Then we shall plant one on all our wedding anniversaries until we’re old and grey,’ said Katherine. ‘And that will be our rosarium.’
Barnaby let this amiable pool of conversation fill up for a while then dropped his stone. ‘Oh - a small point, Miss Lacey. When I spoke to you a few days ago I understood you to say that you spent the evening of the seventeenth here with Mr Trace.’
‘That’s right, I did.’
‘And you didn’t go out at all?’
‘No. We were here all the time.’
‘You were seen walking in the village.’
‘Me?’ She looked genuinely puzzled. ‘But I couldn’t have - Oh! Of course. I ran out to post a letter. D’you remember, darling? We said we’d order a Notcutt’s catalogue and I thought I’d do it straight away.’
‘Wouldn’t it be quicker to do that by telephone?’
‘They’re not free. You have to send a cheque.’
‘That would be their main branch at Woodbridge?’ She nodded. ‘Do you remember how long you were out?’
‘Not exactly. I just ran Peel to the end of Church Lane and home again. Surely,’ she added crisply, ‘whoever saw me going out saw me coming back?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘Dear me. Sleeping at their post were they?’
‘You didn’t see anyone whilst you were out?’
‘Not a soul.’
‘You would support what Miss Lacey says, sir?’
‘Well ... I didn’t see Katherine leave—’
‘No, you dropped off after dinner. That’s the only reason I went just then, really.’
‘Yes. I often do these days,’ he smiled at Barnaby. ‘She was certainly here when I woke.’ As he was speaking two black and gold vans - ‘Lazenby et cie’ - crunched over the gravel and through the main gate.
‘It’s the caterers,’ cried Katherine. ‘I’d better go—’
‘Actually, Miss Lacey, I did want a further word ...’
‘Oh.’ She looked at her fiancé uncertainly.
‘Don’t worry - I’ll go.’ Henry Trace pushed himself away, making for the wooden ramp by the terrace steps. Katherine followed him slowly, Barnaby by her side, Troy bringing up a salivatory rear.
‘I wonder,’ said Barnaby, ‘if you remember the day Mrs Trace died?’
‘Bella? Of course I do.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘It’s not the kind of thing one forgets in a hurry. It was terrible.’
‘I understand that you were not a member of the party?’
‘No. I stayed here, preparing the tea. Usually Phyllis helped but on that day she went out with the shoot.’
‘That was unusual, was it?’
‘Very.’
‘So the first you knew about the tragedy ... ?’
‘Was when Michael came racing in, grabbed the phone and shouted down it for an ambulance.’
‘I see. Would you say ...’ - he hesitated, picking the words over carefully in his mind - ‘that Mr and Mrs Trace were happy?’
‘Well ... yes ... they always seemed so to me. Although of course outsiders never really know, do they? They were both very kind to Michael and myself. And Henry was absolutely distraught when she died.’
Barnaby turned and looked back over the line of poplars and wooded ground beyond. ‘Was it over there the accident happened?’
Katherine followed his gaze. ‘Oh no ... in the beechwoods that lie behind Holly Cottage.’
‘I see. Well, thank you again.’
They had reached the terraced steps by now and walked up them together. As they crossed the yard Benjy made a sound from the doorstep and staggered to his feet. Katherine turned away from the sight.
‘Oh, why won’t he eat!’ she burst out passionately to the two men. ‘I bought him everything - lovely meat, biscuits. He’s got his own basket and blanket and dish - everything he had over there ...’
‘They pine, I’m afraid,’ said Barnaby.
‘But you’d think they’d want to stay alive, however sad they are.’
‘He’s a pretty old dog, miss,’ said Troy sympathetically. ‘I think he’s just tired. He’s had enough.’
‘Are you through with Katherine, Chief Inspector? I really need her over here.’
‘Well - that’s that,’ sighed Barnaby a few moments later as they drove away. ‘I suppose it was too much to hope that Katherine Lacey and the Lessiter girl would have been wandering up and down Church Lane at the same time last Friday night.’
‘But ... you do believe her, sir?’ asked Troy, still a little dazed by the rainbow lustre of the Lacey smile. ‘About the letter?’
‘Oh yes. I’ll get it followed up of course but I’ve no doubt that she posted it when and where she says. If she’s innocent there’d be no point in making up such a story. And if she’s guilty she’d make doubly sure anything we could check on was genuine.’
‘Guilty.’ Troy unwisely took his eyes off the road to give Barnaby an incredulous glance and missed the opening to the Lessiters’ drive.
‘You really must give up this physiognomy, Troy. It can only hinder your career. She’s got more to lose than any of them.’
‘But the dog, sir. The dog didn’t bark.’
‘Yes, the dog’s a problem, I admit.’
Or perhaps the dog wasn’t a problem, he thought as Troy reversed and drove up to the Lessiters’ front door. Perhaps the dog meant he could score a line through Katherine Lacey once and for all. One down, six to go. Or seven if he kept a really open mind and included the seemingly impossible Henry Trace. What about if he had fallen hopelessly in love with Katherine when his wife was still alive and had hired someone to lurk in the undergrowth and pop Bella off? Barnaby dragged his attention back to the present and reminded himself yet again that he had no reason to suppose that Mrs Trace’s death was anything but an accident. And that he was in fact now engaged in investigating something quite different.
The doctor’s surgery still had fifteen minutes to run, which suited the chief inspector very well. Judy Lessiter opened the main door, looking even less attractive than she had the previous day. She had a frowsty air, like that of a small animal emerging after a long period of hibernation.
‘Yes.’
‘We’d like a word with your father—’
‘Surgery round the side.’ She started to close the door. Barnaby moved forward. ‘And with you also, please.’
She stared at him sullenly for a moment then shrugged and led them into the kitchen. She turned to face them, leaning against the sink.
‘Miss Lessiter, you told me earlier that you were in the library during the afternoon of the seventeenth.’
‘No I didn’t.’
‘I’m sorry but I checked your statement before coming here.’
‘I said I was at work. I don’t stand behind a counter stamping books. Part of my job is to visit schools, technical colleges ... liaise with administrators, check if there are any projects that may mean ordering special books. On Friday afternoon I was at Gessler Tye primary school.’
‘I must say I feel that you have deliberately attempted to mislead us in this matter.’
‘That’s your problem,’ she said rudely.
‘So if you would go through your movements again?’
‘I take sandwiches for lunch. I ate them then—’