With contempt in her eyes, Carole said, “I wish I hadn’t felt sorry for you that night at the party. Everything you say is an insinuation. Why are you so anxious to make trouble for him?”
“Someone killed Miss Wilkinson. And it’s as likely to have been your Dr. Bossard as anybody else.”
“How? You told me she must’ve been lying in the garage for at least half an hour. If he’d only just got there —”
“That’s his story,” Quinn said. “Who saw him arrive? Who’s to say he hasn’t been hanging around since before twelve o’clock … or that this wasn’t his second visit to Rose Cottage?”
The car reached the top of the rise. As it rounded the elm trees, Carole said, “How does anyone know you weren’t paying a second visit? If it could be shown that you had a motive … oh, this is absurd! I’d better watch out or you’ll make me as bad as you are and —”
She broke off as the car pulled up outside. Then she asked, “Why are you looking like that? What did I say?”
Quinn said, “You’ve just made me realise something. The obvious motive isn’t always the real one.”
“Is that supposed to be a profound remark?”
“More profound than you know.” As the door-bell chimed, he added, “They say ‘When in doubt, ask a policeman.’ So now’s your chance. That’s Inspector Elvin at the door. He’s got Sergeant Taylor with him and there’s a uniformed driver in the car … so I’d say this is no social call …”
Elvin came in briskly, gave Quinn a nod, and said good afternoon to Carole Stewart. “… I suppose you’ve heard about Miss Wilkinson?”
“Yes, Mr. Quinn told me.”
“I see … You’ve already met Sergeant Taylor, haven’t you? No? Well, he’s here to assist me.”
Sergeant Taylor mumbled some greeting, twiddled his hat, and then stared up at the ceiling, his big heavy face impassive. Under the point of his chin there was a trace of dried blood where he had cut himself shaving.
Carole asked, “Any possibility it might’ve been an accident?”
“Oh, there’s always that possibility — always.” Elvin looked at Quinn. “But the doctor tells me you don’t think so … m-m-m?”
“No. And I’ll go on not thinking so until we know where Parry, Ford and Bossard were from some time before twelve o’clock until twelve-thirty.”
Inspector Elvin pondered for a moment, his head tilted as though he were listening for any sound from upstairs. Then he said, “I see … Well, that shouldn’t be very difficult. Dr. Bossard will be along shortly and we’ll see what he has to say. Meantime, let’s ask Mr. Parry and Mr. Ford … shall we?”
“They’re not here,” Quinn said.
“Indeed? When are they expected back? Do you know, Miss Stewart?”
Carole said, “All I can tell you is that Michael is supposed to have gone to the Bird-in-Hand and Mr. Ford went out for a walk.”
“How long ago?”
“Just after half past nine.”
The inspector looked at his watch. “Nearly two o’clock … Four hours is a lot of walking on a hot day. Of course, he may be another one who’s sampling the wine of the country. Do you think that’s likely?”
“I’ve no idea,” Carole said.
“Then shall we ask his wife?”
“She’s not here, either. She went out about half an hour ago.”
“Indeed? Do you know where?”
“To see if there was any sign of her husband. She wanted to get lunch over and —”
“Don’t try to cover up the truth,” Quinn said. “You know she’s gone to play hell with him because he got fresh with you when you were out together.”
Carole said angrily, “That’s the last time I’ll tell you anything! What happened between Neil Ford and me is no concern of the police and I don’t want it discussed.”
Inspector Elvin bobbed his head in agreement. “You’re quite right, Miss Stewart. It is a personal matter … and I can assure you I have more important things to discuss with Mr. Ford — much more important things. However, there is one question I think only you can answer … if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. What is it?”
“Just this: what time did you leave Mr. Ford — and where?”
She glanced at Quinn, her eyes still angry. Then she said, “It was before twelve o’clock. He asked me if I’d like to call in at the Bird-in-Hand for an iced lager and that’s where we were going when” — she made an impatient gesture — “when he acted silly.”
“I see … And you left him there and then?”
“Of course.”
“Yes, I can understand. Where were you when this happened?”
“The other side of the village.”
“How far from Miss Wilkinson’s cottage in Northwood Lane?”
Carole gave Quinn another fleeting look. She said, “Just a few minutes’ walk.”
“You haven’t seen him since you parted company?”
“No.”
“Did you come straight back here?”
“No, I was very annoyed and I didn’t want Mrs. Ford to see me looking upset in case she guessed her husband had been making a fool of himself.”
“I see … Were you anywhere near Northwood Lane after you left Mr. Ford?”
Carole head went back. In a stiff voice, she said, “I don’t know what you mean by that, Inspector, but if you’re suggesting —”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Elvin said. “The purpose of my question was to ascertain if you, perhaps, saw Mr. Ford in the neighbourhood of Northwood Lane … or going in that direction.”
“I’ve no idea where he went.”
Inspector Elvin stroked his silver hair and made a puckered mouth while he thought. Then he said, “Very well. Seems there’s only one thing to do. I’ll wait and see what Mr. Neil Ford has to say for himself.”
15
It wasn’t a long wait. From his place at the window Quinn saw Michael Parry and Mr. and Mrs. Ford come in sight beyond the elm trees. They were talking together and appeared to be on very good terms. He wondered how Neil Ford had managed to persuade his wife that Carole’s return alone had had an innocent explanation.
They came past the trees, the two men on either side of Irene Ford. Quinn heard her giggle at something her husband said.
Then one of them saw the police car parked outside the door and the talk stopped abruptly. With Michael walking ahead of the others they passed the window and entered the porch.
He used his key. When he came in he looked at Elvin and asked, “What is it this time?”
“In the light of certain information I have just received I require to ask further questions. That is why I’m here.”
“Well, I have no further answers. I’ve said all I intend to say.”
“You’re under a misapprehension,” Elvin said. “I haven’t come to question you again.”
He nodded to Neil Ford and gave Irene a smile that made her wriggle with embarrassment. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Detective-Inspector Elvin of the Blandford C.I.D … and my colleague is Sergeant Taylor. We are investigating the death of Mrs. Adele Parry.”
Ford said, “I didn’t know there was anything to investigate.”
“Oh, but there is — a very great deal. And I think you can help us in our inquiries.”
“Why me?” He turned on Quinn and asked in a bristling voice, “What have you been saying?”
Quinn now understood many things that he should have seen long ago. It was no use blaming himself, too late for regret. If he had used his head, if he had listened to Ariadne Wilkinson instead of being impatient with her she wouldn’t have had to die.
In a moment of time that seemed endless he could hear himself telling Dr. Bossard “… I always prefer a simple explanation.”
And now it was easy to explain why the light had been on in the nursery — so very easy. The whole thing hinged on that apparent trifle … and the kind of woman Adele Parry had been. Mrs. Gregg h
ad told him. So had Irene Ford and Miss Wilkinson. But he had been too stupid to see the obvious.
… They served it up to you on a plate and you never saw it. Better not tell anyone or they’ll know you for the dolt you are. You got bogged down with motives: first Michael Parry; then Dr. Bossard; and last night Ford added himself to the list. Jealousy … fear … hatred … that’s what the three of them represent …
The funny thing was that Ariadne Wilkinson couldn’t have known. But she had held the key.
He stared back at Neil Ford and said, “I haven’t been saying anything about you … but don’t push your luck. You could be in worse trouble than —”
“I’m not in any trouble. Just keep your nose out of my affairs — that’s all.”
Inspector Elvin said, “I think it would be better, Mr. Ford, if you and I had a private conversation. Is there a room we can use where we won’t be interrupted?”
“That isn’t necessary,” Ford said. “Whatever you want to talk about you can discuss it with me right here.”
“In front of all these people?”
“Why not? I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Elvin shrugged. “As you wish. I just thought you might not like Mr. Parry and your wife to learn of your relationship with Mrs. Parry.”
Ford’s neck bulged over his collar. In a suppressed voice, he said, “This is outrageous! There was nothing between Mrs. Parry and me that anyone couldn’t —”
“My information leads me to believe that you were her lover,” Elvin said.
Irene Ford closed her eyes and made a choking noise. “Oh dear … oh dear … oh dear … oh dear … it’s not true, it’s just not true.”
Elvin said, “I’m afraid it is. I tried to avoid causing you this embarrassment but your husband wouldn’t let me. If you would prefer not to hear any more there is no reason why you should stay.”
She didn’t seem to hear. Her eyes slowly opened and she pointed a finger at her husband.
“You told me you’d only met her once or twice. Soon as you realised what she had in mind you refused to see her any more. You swore you’d never been unfaithful to me. And all the time you were lying …”
Michael Parry sat down and put his face in his hands. Carole looked at Quinn and then turned away. Sergeant Taylor stopped twiddling with his hat. Now he was watching Ford.
With his womanish mouth distorted, Ford said, “I didn’t lie. Why should you believe a thing like that without asking him to give you proof? Go on! Ask him to prove it.”
Irene dropped her hand. Like a mechanical model she jerked her head round to look at Inspector Elvin.
“Can you — can you prove it?”
“No, I can’t. But only for one reason.”
Ford said, “Oh, very clever. What is the reason?” His flaring anger seemed to have burned itself out.
“You know it as well as I do,” Elvin said. “After Mrs. Parry died there could never be anything but circumstantial evidence that you’d had an immoral association with her — evidence which would show that Mrs. Parry had been visited by you on numerous occasions when you had no proper motive for being here.”
“That’s another lie.”
“No, Mr. Ford, it isn’t. You were seen visiting this house many times in the past —”
“Who saw me? Go on. Who was this witness?”
Quinn could hear a car on the road up from the village — a car travelling fast. Inspector Elvin must have heard it, too. He glanced at the window and paused for a moment as though listening while the sound came nearer.
Then he said, “Miss Wilkinson saw you. From her cottage there is a good view of the drive in front of this house. That is why she was attacked this morning and left in the garage with the engine of her car running.”
Michael Parry’s head jerked up as if it had been pulled by a string. Irene looked like a woman who was about to faint. Neil Ford seemed to have had all the breath driven out of him.
Carole looked at Quinn and he saw a question in her eyes. Before she could speak, Ford said, “You must be mad. I was nowhere near there. I’ve never been to her cottage. Why should I want to kill her, anyway, even if she did see me visiting Mrs. Parry … once or twice?”
“For the best of all motives,” Elvin said. “Suppose her evidence could prove that you were responsible for Mrs. Parry’s death?”
The car swung round the clump of trees and crunched its way to the porch, gravel spurting from its rear tyres and brakes squealing as it came to a halt. Dr. Bossard got out. As he hurried into the porch, Sergeant Taylor went to let him in.
And all the time, Ford stood open-mouthed, his eyes filled with confusion. At last, he said, “Maybe I’m the one who’s going mad. You can’t be serious. You can’t really believe I killed Adele. What proof have you got? How can you say a monstrous thing like that?”
“I can prove you were here, in this house, last Friday afternoon,” Elvin said.
“You’re a liar! I was in Ringwood all day.”
“Suppose I ask you to produce proof of that?”
Neil Ford had no opportunity to answer. In a dry, difficult voice, his wife said, “I’m his proof. He was with me all day on Friday.”
She moved her thin shoulders nervously and swallowed several times. Then she repeated, “… all day.” When she saw everybody looking at her she shrank in on herself and the light of dour determination came into her eyes.
Inspector Elvin asked, “Are you willing to swear to that, Mrs. Ford?”
She swallowed again. She said, “Yes … yes, I am.”
He turned to Neil Ford. “Well, now, you’ve heard your wife say you were together all day on Friday. If she makes a written statement to that effect, and it is not true, she will be guilty of perjury. I don’t need to tell you the consequences, do I?”
Ford looked at his wife and said, “You didn’t have to say that … but thanks. It’s more than I deserve. From now on I’ll make up for everything … you wait and see.”
With infinite weariness in her face, she murmured, “I only want to go home and never see this house again. Whatever you did I don’t blame you. It was Adele’s fault … it was all her fault.”
Quinn told himself that was what Irene Ford believed, that was how she would rationalise the whole affair. No one could be more self-centred than a stupid woman. Now she had her husband again. Now the threat to her narrow little world had been removed. Now everything was all right.
As Ford put his arm round her and turned to the staircase, Inspector Elvin said, “Not yet. We’re still a long way from settling this matter.”
Ford let go of his wife and asked, “What else is there to talk about?”
“Quite a lot. To start with, you haven’t yet confirmed that what your wife said is true.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Do you expect me to deny it and make a liar of her?”
“No, I don’t expect that. But I still want you to confirm that you and your wife were together all day Friday — especially between the hours of one and four p.m. in the afternoon.”
Without any hesitation, Ford said, “All right … if that’s all you want. We were together the whole of Friday — morning, afternoon and evening. Can we go now?”
“No, I’m afraid you can’t. What do you do for a living, Mr. Ford?”
“That hardly seems relevant and I don’t —”
“You can take it from me that it is relevant — very relevant. Please answer my question.”
In a tone of artificial good humour, Ford said, “Very well. Anything to oblige. I deal in antiques.”
“What kind of premises?”
“I have a shop in Ringwood. The address is 24 Castle Street and if you are interested —”
“Wasn’t your shop open for business on Friday?”
“Yes, of course. We’re open six days a week … and the answer to your next question is that my wife helps me to run the business. She understands antiques almost as well as I do and that’s why she’s there
all the time.”
“Any other assistance?”
“Only part-time. I employ a lady on Saturdays so that my wife can do the week-end shopping … and also if we want a few days off. Got all you need now?”
Inspector Elvin said, “So far as Friday is concerned — yes. Let’s turn to the events of this morning. I understand you went for a walk with Miss Stewart. Is that right?”
“Yes. We left the house” — Ford gave Carole a wary look — “between nine-thirty and ten.”
“And were in each other’s company until — what time would you say?”
“Until just before I met Mr. Parry in the Bird-in-Hand.”
“When was that?”
“I don’t know,” Ford said irritably. “On a Sunday I don’t keep looking at my watch every five minutes.”
“No, of course not. But surely you can give me some approximate idea?”
While Ford thought of an answer, Dr. Bossard skirted the room to where Carole was standing. She looked up and smiled and Quinn saw her take Bossard’s hand. Then she turned to watch Neil Ford again.
He took as long as he could before at last he said, “It would be about twelve o’clock. Mr. Parry and I had a couple of drinks and we were coming out when we met my wife. She’d come looking for me … so we persuaded her to have a drink, too, and went back in again. That’s why we got home so late.”
Inspector Elvin looked at Parry and asked, “Were you already in the Bird-in-Hand before Mr. Ford arrived?”
A change had slowly come into Michael’s face. He pushed himself to his feet and said, “Yes.” He sounded as if something was struggling for expression.
“What time was it, Mr. Parry?”
“Well after half-past twelve.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Quite sure. I can’t say to within a minute but —”
“You’re mistaken,” Ford said roughly. “It was nowhere near that time.”
Michael Parry looked at Quinn and said, “You know when it was. I saw you leaving as I got there. You didn’t see me … but I’m right, am I not?”
A Slightly Bitter Taste Page 21