At some time, he couldn't remember precisely when, he had remembered that Mr Gorringe had asked him to find a second musical-box for use in the Third Act of the play, Miss Lisle having expressed dissatisfaction with the one provided at the dress rehearsal. He had come here into the business room to fetch it from the walnut chiffonier. At this stage his eyes indicated what Buckley sourly thought could very well have been described as a cupboard. His Aunt Sadie had one like it, not as fancily carved on the doors or at the end of the shelves, but pretty much the same. She claimed it had been in the family for generations, kept it in the back parlour, and called it a dresser. She used it for the bits and pieces her kids brought back from holiday for her, cheap souvenirs from the Costa del Sol, Malta and, now, from Miami. He'd have to tell her that what she'd got was a chiffonier and she'd reply that he made it sound like a bloody ice-cream.
He turned the page of his notebook. Munter's resigned voice droned on. He had taken the second musical-box and placed it with the first one on the props table. Shortly afterwards, it could have been as late as two fifteen, Mr Gorringe had appeared and they had checked over the props together. By then it was time to go to the quay to meet the launch bringing the rest of the cast from Speymouth. He had gone with Mr Gorringe to receive them and had helped with the disembarkation. Mr Gorringe and he had escorted the gentlemen to their dressing-rooms and his wife and Miss Tolgarth had looked after the ladies. He had stayed backstage for about ten minutes and had then gone to his pantry where Mrs Chambers and her granddaughter were polishing glasses. He had had occasion to complain to the girl, Debbie, about a smeared glass and had supervised the arrangements to rewash them all. After that he had gone to the dining-room to collect the chairs together for the supper party which was to be held in the great hall. He had been there when Mr Gorringe had put his head in to inform him of Miss Lisle's murder.
Grogan sat with his great head lowered, as if bowed with the weight of assimilating this succinct account. Then he said quietly:
'You are, of course, devoted to Mr Gorringe.'
'Yes indeed, sir. When Mr Gorringe broke the news to me I said: What, in our house?'
'Quite Shakespearean. The Macbeth touch. And no doubt Mr Gorringe could riposte with: "Too awful anywhere"?'
'No doubt he could have, sir. Actually what he said was that I should go to the landing stage and prevent the guests from landing. He would follow as soon as possible and explain the lamentable circumstances which necessitated the cancellation of the performance.'
'The launches were then at the quay?'
'Not at that time. I judged that they were three-quarters of a mile away.'
'So there was no particular hurry to warn them?'
'It was not a matter to be left to chance. Mr Gorringe was anxious that the police investigation should not be hampered by the presence on the island of another eighty people in a state of confusion or distress.'
Grogan said:
'In a state of highly enjoyable excitement, more likely. Nothing like a good murder for a thrill. Or wouldn't you know?' 'I wouldn't know, sir.'
'Still, it was considerate of your master – I suppose that's what you call him – to have as his first thought the convenience of the police. Highly commendable. What was he doing, do you know, while you were wasting a certain amount of time at the quay?'
'I suppose that he was telephoning the police and acquainting his guests and the cast of the play with the fact of Lady Ralston's death. I have no doubt he will inform you if asked.'
'And how exactly did he acquaint you with the fact of Lady Ralston's death?'
'He told me that she had been battered to death. He instructed me to inform the guests when they arrived that she had been killed by a blow to the head. There was no need to harrow them unnecessarily. In the event I was not required to tell them anything as Mr Gorringe had joined me by the time the launches arrived.'
'A blow to the head. You have seen the body?'
'No, sir. Mr Gorringe locked the door of Lady Ralston's room after the discovery. There was no occasion for any of the staff to see the body.'
'But you have, no doubt, formed some opinion as to how this blow to the head was inflicted. You permitted yourself a theory, a little natural curiosity? You went so far, perhaps, as to discuss it with your wife?'
'It did occur to me to wonder whether the assault was connected with the missing marble hand. Mr Gorringe will have told you that the display case was forced in the early hours of this morning.'
'So suppose you tell us what you know about that.'
'The object was brought back to the castle by Mr Gorringe on his return from London on Thursday night and placed by him in the showcase. The showcase is kept locked since groups of visitors are shown round the castle during the summer months on days which are announced in advance and Mr Gorringe's insurance company has insisted on this degree of security. Mr Gorringe himself placed the hand in position, watched by me, and we had some conversation on its possible provenance. He then locked the showcase. The keys to the display cabinets are not, of course, kept on the key board with the house keys but in the bottom left locked drawer of the desk at which you are now sitting. The showcase was undamaged and the marble arm in place when I saw it shortly after midnight. Mr Gorringe found it in its present state when he was on his way to the kitchen just before seven o'clock. He is an early riser and prefers to make his own morning tea and carry the tray either on to the terrace or into the library depending on the state of the weather. We inspected the damage together.'
'You saw no one, heard nothing?'
'No, sir. I was busy in the kitchen preparing the early morning tea-trays.'
'And they were all there when you took up the early tea-trays?'
'The gentlemen were. I understand from my wife that the ladies were also in bed. Lady Ralston's early tea was taken up later by her maid, Miss Tolgarth. At about seven thirty Mr Gorringe came to tell me that Sir George had arrived unexpectedly, put ashore in the small bay west of the headland by a local fishing boat. I did not myself see him until I set breakfast on the hotplate in the small breakfast room at eight o'clock.'
'But anyone could have got into the house at any time after six five when you opened up the castle?'
'The back door leading to the great hall was unlocked by me at six fifteen. At the time I looked out over the lawn and the path leading to the beach and the coastal walk. I saw no one. But anyone could have entered and done the damage between six fifteen and seven o'clock.'
The rest of the interview was unfruitful. Munter appeared to repent of his loquacity and his answers became shorter. He had no idea that Lady Ralston was receiving poison-pen communications and had no suggestions to offer as to their origin. Shown one of the messages he fingered the paper with fastidious distaste and said that it was the kind he and his wife commonly bought but in cream not white. The castle writing paper had an engraved address and was of a different quality as the Chief Inspector would be able to check by opening the top left-hand drawer of the desk. He had not known that Mr Gorringe had given Lady Ralston one of his Victorian jewel caskets nor had he been told that it was missing. He could, however, describe the casket in question since there were only two in the castle. It had been made by a silversmith of Hunt and Rosken in 1850 and was thought to have been among their pieces shown at the Great Exhibition of 1851. It had been considered for use as a prop in the Third Act of the play but the larger and less valuable if more showy casket had been thought the better choice.