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  ‘What do you make of him, Baines?’ he enquired of the sergeant.

  ‘Could bear watching, sir. The only thing is – ’ The sergeant, who was young, keen, and modest, hesitated.

  ‘Go ahead, lad.’

  ‘Well, sir, he gave us a pretty sound personal motive for putting Miss Campbell out of the way, but I’d be inclined to think that, if he did it, he did it for another reason.’

  ‘I should have thought Sir Bohun’s money was a pretty sound reason.’

  ‘Yes, sir. But everybody seems to know about Lupez and Sir Bohun’s money, and I don’t think he’s a fool, sir. Besides, from what gets around, he’s got plenty of money of his own.’

  ‘Granted. All right. Go on.’

  ‘I think his motive would have been dog in the manger, sir.’

  ‘Come again? I don’t think I get it.’

  ‘His view that Miss Campbell was more attractive than Miss Menzies seemed to me to be a genuine opinion, sir. Isn’t it possible, then, that he decided, when the engagement to Sir Bohun was announced, that if he himself couldn’t marry Miss Campbell, nobody should?’

  ‘Bit romantic for nowadays, Baines.’

  ‘Even in the case of a Spaniard, sir, do you think?’

  ‘Hm! That might very well make a difference. Odd chaps, these Latins, although the Spaniards aren’t like any others. Anyway, I’ll keep the point in mind. Anything else strike you?’

  ‘Only that, with him, honesty, he thinks, is the best policy up to a point. People whose minds work like that are even less to be trusted than the out-and-out liars, sir. They’re a whole lot cleverer, for one thing.’

  ‘So you think Lupez is our man?’

  ‘It’s only a hunch, sir. But I don’t like him, so I may be prejudiced.’

  ‘Hm! It’s something that you recognize the fact. Go and get Grimston. He should have been brought back by now. I can’t think what possessed Sir Bohun to let him go away from here at a time like this.’

  ‘He sacked him, I understand, sir.’

  Grimston entered with an air of having screwed himself up to make a speech, but Collins, sensing this, cut briskly across his first words.

  ‘Good morning, sir,’ he said. ‘I know you’ve been put about, but I’m sure you’ll understand that it has been in your own interests for us to have you back while we make our routine enquiries.’

  Grimston sat down in the chair which the Superintendent indicated, but jumped up almost immediately. He strode to the window and back, picked up a book which was lying on the table and replaced it with exaggerated exactness in the centre of a panel of the wood. Collins nodded to the sergeant.

  ‘Now, sir,’ he said, ‘where were you, and – ’

  ‘I want to speak to you particularly,’ burst out Grimston. ‘It is quite wrong for you to trust me. I am the man you want for murder.’

  He paused, his lips parted. The Superintendent nodded indulgently.

  ‘Yes, sir, I see,’ was all that he said. Grimston stared at him in perplexity.

  ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’ he demanded.

  ‘Yes, I heard what you said, sir. You claim to have been the murderer of Miss Campbell. You will need to convince us of that, sir. What evidence can you bring to prove it?’

  ‘Evidence? Isn’t my confession enough for you, then?’

  ‘Not by itself, I’m afraid, sir. So many people confess to murder. We’ve had seventeen confessions and four eye-witness’ reports already. All bogus. Wouldn’t stand up even to a preliminary investigation, more’s the pity. It would save us a lot of time and trouble if we could get just one genuine confession instead of a lot of blah from all these people who want to sell their story to the Sunday papers.’ He regarded Grimston tolerantly.

  ‘But my confession is the genuine thing!’ cried Grimston. Collins drew out a notebook, and settled his solid frame more comfortably in his chair.

  ‘Go ahead, then, sir,’ he said. Grimston took out a cigarette lighter and fiddled with it. ‘Smoke if you want to, sir. It’s as well to relax when we can.’

  ‘No, no. Look here, Superintendent, you remember that dream of mine? Well, of course, it wasn’t a dream. I mean, I never dreamt anything of the kind, as no doubt you guessed. That dream was a bit of wishful thinking. I had proposed to Linda – to Miss Campbell – and she had turned me down. Well, I don’t overrate myself, but the way she did it – contemptuously, you know – got under my skin. I may be a poor blasted usher, but she was only a nursery governess, after all. I saw red. I invented the dream, hoping it would sublimate matters for me and take away the wish to kill, but, far from that being the case, the urge became stronger and stronger, and at last – well, I did it. I killed her.’

  ‘Yes, sir? Can you give us the details?’

  ‘Certainly. I have been thinking things over and I’ve decided to make a clean breast of everything. It was Fate playing into my hands, I think. I knew that Linda was in the habit of going to the Queen of the Circus to meet her brother. He was a bit of a no-good, I gathered. In with a bookmaker’s gang. Shady doings on the turf have never interested me, although I like a flutter with anybody in the normal way. She had told me about this brother. He used to give her money. He was good to her that way, because her pay here wasn’t very much. I found out about the brother first because I followed her once or twice, thinking she was meeting a lover. However, she satisfied me that that was not the case, and sometimes I would walk with her as far as the road-house and buy myself a drink in the public bar while the two of them chin-wagged in the saloon.’

  ‘Did you ever overhear their conversation, sir?’ Collins had heard from Gavin, who had had the information from Mrs Bradley, of the man whom Linda Campbell had met in the road-house saloon lounge, and he was anxious to know more of him. But Grimston shook his head.

  ‘Once I was certain there was nothing involved that would worry me, I took no more interest,’ he explained. ‘Besides, it had been understood from the beginning that I was not to interfere in any way.’

  ‘Yes, I understand, sir. You were saying – ’

  ‘I was going to tell you about that particular morning. I hadn’t been sleeping at all well since the Sherlock Holmes party. It was that night when Linda finally gave me to understand that I could give up all hope of marrying her. I’ve learnt since that some of our conversation was overheard by one of the guests. Detective-Inspector Gavin told me that Mrs Bradley caught the drift of what we were saying, so there’s your proof, if you want it.’

  ‘Proof of the fact that Miss Campbell told you she did not intend to marry you, coupled with strong supposition that she intended to marry Sir Bohun, sir? Proof that you made up your mind to kill her? Exactly how did you set about it? That’s what we should very much like to know.’

  ‘She went off to the road-house before breakfast on the day of her death. I went out after her. She had hinted of terrible trouble, and I was afraid she might have decided to take her own life. When she reached the road-house she turned down the lane beside it and went on to the heath. It was my opportunity. I followed her, keeping to the bushes. I had the weapon with me. I always carried it. It was a long, two-edged knife, razor sharp and rather heavy. I bought it in London. I can’t show it you. I’ve thrown it away.

  ‘Just as she approached the gravel pits she looked round. I supposed she had heard me, so I crouched down behind a bush, but the early morning was inclined to be foggy, and it did not seem as though she could have seen me. Suddenly she pulled out a gun, but before she could use it I was on her and had knocked it out of her hand. She gave a little scream and I pulled her towards me and shouted out that she must marry me, or something to that effect. She pulled away, and said some things to me which I forget, but I know they maddened me. I said: “All right, then, Linda, you’ve bought it. I’ll show you whether I’m as weak as you think.” With that I swung her round so that her back was towards me, and then I stabbed her through the breast.’

  ‘How many times did yo
u stab her, sir?’

  ‘I think it could only have been once.’

  ‘What did you do after that?’

  ‘Nothing. I ran towards the flooded gravel pit and threw the knife in. You’ll probably find it if you drag. Then I walked about for a bit, and then I came back here. That was all, I think, but my mind is still rather confused. I’ve tried to reconstruct the scene, but there are bits which seem quite blacked-out. I don’t think I can add any more.’

  ‘Thank you, sir. Got all that down, Sergeant? All right. Type it out, and perhaps, later on, we’ll get Mr Grimston to sign it.’

  ‘I suppose I am to consider myself under arrest,’ said Grimston. Collins shook his head.

  ‘All in good time, sir,’ he said. ‘We shall have to check this statement of yours very carefully. Either you have slipped up on one or two points, or we have. But, of course, as you say, you are rather hazy as to details. You won’t go too far away, sir? We may need you again later to-day.’

  ‘Don’t you believe me? Hang it, Superintendent, you’ve jolly well got to! Would I confess to the murder if I hadn’t done it? Use your common sense, for goodness sake.’

  ‘Very good, sir. Just give us time to find the weapon. The jury always like to see the weapon in these cases of sudden violence. Gives them an idea of whether there might be extenuating circumstances, or so I’m told. I wonder, when you go out, sir, whether you would be kind enough to ask Mr Dance to step this way? I understand that he is staying in the house. Well?’ he demanded of the sergeant when Grimston had gone.

  ‘Mad as a March hare, sir. He didn’t do it! Doesn’t know a thing about it!’

  ‘I’m not so sure, my lad. It may be a way of trying to throw dust in our eyes. I’m keeping a very open mind for the present about Mr Loony Grimston. As I see it, he’s a dark horse, and there’s no doubt at all that he was very sweet on the girl. Sir Bohun Chantrey is certain of that. It’s no new thing for a jealous man to kill a girl if he can’t have her.’

  The sergeant said, ‘Yes, sir,’ but not in the tone of one who has been convinced. There came a tap at the door. The sergeant got up and opened it to admit Toby Dance.

  ‘Ah, thank you for coming along so promptly, sir,’ said Collins. ‘Take a seat, will you? There are just one or two points over which you may be able to help us. I understand that you were not staying in the neighbourhood when this shocking business took place?’

  ‘No. I was living in Town.’

  ‘Your wife was staying here, I believe?’

  ‘Yes. Sir Bohun Chantrey thought it would look better to have somebody else here when his engagement to Miss Campbell was announced, as Miss Campbell was going to continue living in the house.’

  ‘I understand Sir Bohun’s niece was staying here, though.’

  ‘Yes, of course, but she’s rather young and inexperienced – not quite one’s idea of a chaperone.’

  ‘I see, sir. Very good. Now, sir, just as a formality – can you tell me where you were and what you were doing between three o’clock and five on the afternoon of the eleventh of January?’

  Toby Dance pursed up his lips and, to Collins’ surprise, obviously hesitated before he answered:

  ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t, sir?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Anything you tell me is received on the note of strict confidence, sir, unless it is needed in evidence later on.’

  ‘Oh, it isn’t that I won’t tell you. I simply can’t remember.’

  ‘Take it a bit at a time, sir. You would have got up at …?’

  ‘Eight-thirty. I never get to the office until ten or half past. My secretary is kept busy opening the morning’s correspondence until then.’

  ‘So we can take it you had arrived at your office on the eleventh by half past ten? At what time do you knock off for lunch, sir?’

  ‘A quarter past one. I go to the Jardin des Gourmets mostly.’

  ‘And how long do you take over lunch, sir?’

  ‘Depends upon whom I’m with. If it’s a client, anything up to a couple of hours if I think it’s worth it. Nobody hurries over lunch at that restaurant, anyway. It ’ud be a sin.’

  ‘So we’re getting near the time I want to know about, sir. Now, then, you’re through with lunch. Whom did you lunch with on the eleventh of January?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Were you, perhaps, alone?’

  ‘I must have been. I’d remember if I’d had anybody with me.’

  ‘Very good, sir. You lunched alone. I dare say the waiter would remember you, sir?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I always have the same table, but … O Lord! Now I come to think, that must have been the day I didn’t go to the restaurant. Yes, that’s right. I – I lunched somewhere else.’

  ‘Where was that, sir?’

  ‘I don’t know. One of the Corner Houses, I believe. I don’t really remember.’

  ‘Will you give me your business address, sir? Perhaps you’ve a business card I could have.’

  ‘What the devil for, Superintendent?’

  ‘Well, sir,’ said Collins, looking him full in the face, ‘when a gentleman who has had some acquaintance with a murdered young woman states first of all that he can’t remember how he spent the afternoon on which she died, and then admits that, on that particular afternoon, he changed all his regular habits, and even stalls about the place where he had his lunch, he needn’t be surprised if the police think his information can do with a bit of checking. There’s one other thing I’d like to know. What did you know of Miss Campbell before she came here to work for Sir Bohun Chantrey?’

  ‘Oughtn’t you to caution me?’ asked Dance, suddenly grinning. ‘I knew quite a bit about Linda Campbell before she came to do the governessing here. In fact, it might be said that I got her the job.’

  ‘Indeed, sir?’ Collins mentally pricked up his ears. Facts relating to Linda Campbell’s life before she was employed by Sir Bohun were few, and, with all his suspicions of the house-party, Collins still had in mind the so-far unidentified young man whom Linda had met at the road-house. ‘May I ask what was the nature of your acquaintanceship with her, and how you came to meet her in the first place?’

  ‘Certainly. Neither is anything to be ashamed of, I’m relieved to say. Linda was at boarding school with my sister, who is a good deal younger than I am, and Linda used to come to our house for an occasional week-end. After the two girls left school I saw no more of Linda for two or three years. I married, for one thing, and was not living at home. But not many months ago I received a letter from Linda, sent on from my mother’s, in which she asked whether I could put her in touch with a job for which she didn’t require to train. I hadn’t a clue. She said she couldn’t even type. Then I heard that Chantrey had had two youngsters wished on him and needed a nursery governess, so I put Linda on to him and washed my hands of her.’

  ‘You have her previous address, then?’

  ‘No. I threw the letter away.’

  ‘What did you think when you heard that Miss Campbell was dead?’

  ‘Nothing in particular. I wasn’t tremendously surprised, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘How do you account for that, sir?’

  ‘Well, onlookers see most of the game, and since that Sherlock Holmes party I’ve felt that Linda was asking for trouble. Apart from anyone from outside – I heard rumours that she met a chap at that road-house on the edge of the heath – she was trying to ring the changes on Sir Bohun, Grimston, and Manoel, with occasional passes at any other blokes in her vicinity. I shouldn’t have thought she’d have been such a born fool. Two of ’em aren’t really normal, and t’other is a foreigner, and (again according to rumour) Chantrey’s bastard.’

  ‘Not normal, sir? How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, everybody knows that Mrs Bradley had Chantrey under her wing for months and months of psychological treatment just before the end of the war, and, as for Grimston, why, the fellow’s as
mad as a hatter.’

  ‘Indeed, sir?’ This confirmation of his own sergeant’s opinion was interesting, Collins decided.

  ‘Ought to be certified,’ said Dance amiably. ‘Mixes laudanum with his port! Nearly had a fit when first I knew of it. It was Bell who tipped me off about that.’

  ‘Laudanum with his port, sir?’

  ‘Oh, yes. He’s a suicide type, you know. I’d never put it past him to confess to this murder just to get himself hanged!’

  ‘That’s a remarkably interesting suggestion, sir, I must say! You’ll be sure to let me have your sister’s address, sir, and your business card?’

  ‘Well,’ said Dance dubiously; and again suddenly grinned. ‘No, I’ll come clean. Linda was a pick-up. I met her when I was – when my wife and I weren’t on speaking terms. I knew she was a hussy, even then. She was, you know, Superintendent. She obviously had it coming to her. Anyway, I kept her for a short time, but she was a hard-boiled, shrewish little bitch, and I soon got sick of her. However, I couldn’t let her down flat, so when I heard that some friends of mine were going to advertise for a nursery governess I sent her along. She’d been trained as a teacher – that emergency scheme they had at the end of the war – so I thought she could do the job all right, and I also thought I’d get her off my neck for good. It was a bit of a jolt, I can tell you, to turn up to that Sherlock Holmes party that Chantrey threw last November and find Linda governessing his small nephew. I had to go into a huddle with her, and, for a financial consideration, she agreed to keep her mouth shut about our little affair. Of course, if I’d realized how things were between her and Chantrey I could have saved my money!’

  ‘Who suggested that she should not give you away, sir?’

  ‘She did, the little harpy! You see, she’d found out – how, I don’t know, but for those sort of people the walls seem to have tongues as well as ears! – that I wanted to make up with my wife, so she’d got me cold, and she knew it.’

  ‘Blackmail, sir?’

  ‘Yes, of course it was. But I didn’t kill her, for that or any other reason.’