‘Odd that she should have said that. The police also seem to think that it was poor Olga who killed Joan Selwyn,’ said Major Payne after listening to Antonia’s story. ‘But perhaps it was her? I know she has turned out to be extremely sweet-natured, nice and likeable, in addition to her luminosity – and she clearly loves Charlie very much – but the police are notoriously down-to-earth and unsentimental. Their hearts refused to be warmed by the sight of young love.’
‘No, it isn’t Olga.’ Antonia shook her head. ‘How could she have killed Joan Selwyn? Why should Olga Klimt have wanted to kill Joan Selwyn? She had no motive. It was the other way round!’
‘I know, I know – but there you are.’
‘Did the police actually voice that suspicion?’
‘Well, yes. I happened to overhear an indiscreet remark the sergeant made to one of the plain-clothes chaps. It was not meant for my ears. And then of course there was the sight of Olga emerging from her interview with the inspector in floods of tears. She seemed distraught. She looked really scared. Charlie did his best to comfort her, but I could see he was rattled too.’
‘So they didn’t take his story of the exchanged murders seriously?’
‘I don’t think they did, no. They didn’t seem to regard Charlie as someone whom they could entirely trust. There was a time when toffs could do no wrong, now it’s the other way round, have you noticed? I saw the way they looked at his monogrammed dressing gown.’
‘How did they look at it?’
‘With an air of amused contempt. It didn’t help that at one point he lost his temper and accused them of serving a corrupt undemocratic system, of lacking emotional intelligence and – what was it? – oh yes, of using bully-boy tactics. That wasn’t wise at all.’
‘So Miss Frayle is out of it? After everything! Lucky Miss Frayle.’
‘Lucky Miss Frayle indeed. I believe they intend to pay her only what is known as a “routine visit”. She is most certainly not in danger of any immediate incarceration. She may have been our prime suspect, but she isn’t theirs.’
‘They don’t think the murder of Joan Selwyn was a case of mistaken identity?’
‘I may be wrong, my love, but I had the distinct feeling they thought the idea a little on the fanciful side.’
‘We didn’t think it at all fanciful!’
‘We are not exactly paragons of pragmatic, down-to-earth thinking, are we? As far as the police are concerned, a young woman called Joan Selwyn has been stabbed to death on the doorstep of a house occupied by a foreign girl, one Olga Klimt, who is the mistress of the young wastrel whose former girlfriend until not so very long ago the victim was – or had been – and that is all there is to it.’
‘How unimaginative! How crass!’ Antonia fumed. ‘Do they suspect Charlie as well?’
‘I don’t know, but as I pointed out, they didn’t take to him at all … They will soon find out he couldn’t have done it since at the time of the murder he was at an exclusive private clinic in Bayswater. Still, they think it damned suspicious that he should have monkeyed about with the body. At the moment I think they are concentrating on Olga. I believe that Olga is their main suspect.’
‘Poor, poor Olga,’ Antonia said. ‘My heart goes out to her. What about you? Did they treat you as a nuisance?’
‘I should say they did! Pretty much.’ Payne scrunched up his face. ‘They simply couldn’t understand what I was doing at Philomel Cottage, given that I was neither a relative nor a friend of Mr Eresby’s or Miss Klimt’s. I was not a doctor, neither was I a solicitor or a priest. It was the inspector who pointed out these rather obvious facts to me. So what was I doing at the house?’
‘You could have said you were a social worker.’
‘Do I look like a social worker?’
‘You didn’t tell them you were playing at detectives, did you?’
‘No, of course not. But I think the inspector guessed. There was a satirical glint in his eye, though that might have been occasioned by the sight of my pipe.’
‘Did they allow you to smoke it?’
‘I was already smoking it when they arrived. They asked me to put it out. It was all rather grim.’ Payne pursed his lips. ‘There was Olga crying her eyes out and Charlie staring down at his slippers, his face a picture of guilt. I am sorry to have to say this, my love, but I didn’t care for any of the representatives of the law. Not one little bit. I know we are supposed to be on the same side, but there are certain things one simply has to draw the line at.’
‘Such as? Banning your pipe?’
‘Not only that. The sergeant actually called me ‘Hugh’ at one point.’
‘Did he really?’
‘Yes! That particular outrage took place soon after I had given them my full name and military title. “Ex-service” used to count for a bit more once upon a time, but there he was, this ungainly youth, addressing me as “Hugh”. I couldn’t believe my ears and I actually glanced over my shoulder since I thought at first there was another Hugh in the room, his closest friend, perhaps or maybe his best man? I managed to restrain myself with tremendous difficulty.’
‘They took a statement from each one of you?’
‘They most certainly did. As well as fingerprints. Everything happened exactly as it says in books. They also looked us up on their computer system, to see if we had any convictions, cautions, fines, outstanding debts or whatever. They discovered that Charlie had perpetrated eleven driving offences, which resulted in his being deprived of his driving licence. Olga Klimt, on the other hand, had no black marks against her name. When asked what she did, she said she was in “party catering”. Rather neat, that, don’t you think? And her Lithuanian passport was in perfect order, thank God.’
‘Did they look for the murder weapon?’
‘They conducted an incredibly thorough search for it. I can’t fault them on that count. They appeared to be looking for a knife with a thin blade of the stiletto variety, but they failed to find any object matching that description anywhere inside the house or in the garden. They will no doubt continue their search tomorrow morning. They were really cross with Charlie for moving the body, did I say? I mean, really cross.’
‘They didn’t arrest either of them, did they?’
‘No. I heard the inspector warn them that they should be available for further questioning.’ Payne reached out for his glass of Scotch and put his feet up on the coffee table. ‘Let’s take a glance at the crucial times in the affair, shall we?’
‘It is half-past-midnight, Hugh.’
‘It won’t take a moment. I have written it all down. Take a dekko, my love. I’ve done some jottings. I want you to take a dekko. You are after all the expert.’
‘I am nothing of the sort. I hate timetables.’ Antonia sighed. ‘I am exhausted. I suggest we go to bed.’
‘No, not yet. Let’s do it while it’s all fresh. Take a dekko.’ Payne pointed with the stem of his pipe. ‘Olga gets a phone call at quarter-past-five, asking her to go to Dr Bishop’s clinic. The caller says it is very urgent. Olga leaves the house five minutes later, at twenty-past-five. She runs to the Tube station. Miss Frayle says she arrived at Philomel Cottage at about a quarter-to-six, that’s when she found the body. The body was still warm. We assume that Miss Frayle was telling the truth, don’t we?’
‘I believe she was telling the truth, yes.’
‘That means that Joan Selwyn must have been stabbed just a short while earlier, say, between twenty-five-minutes-past five and twenty-to-six, give or take a minute? Does that strike you as plausible?’
‘It does. Exceedingly plausible.’ Antonia yawned.
‘You don’t think it’s plausible?’
‘I do, but I happen to be mortally tired. Sorry, but I feel a little sick. I have been driving around in the dark. I want to go to bed.’ Antonia rose.
‘Who do you think did the stabbing?’
‘I haven’t an earthly notion.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’
‘To bed, Hugh. To bed. I suggest we continue our discussion tomorrow morning, if we must.’