‘He must have been on to it.’
‘You couldn’t make him the gold-merchant, just to tidy the loose ends?’
Hansom snorted indignantly and bit the end off a cigar.
‘All right, Mr Cleverdick… let’s hear your version?’
‘I haven’t got a version… I was just noting a fact.’
Hansom lit the cigar bitterly and blew smoke all around himself. The real trouble with Gently, he thought, was his entire lack of forensic imagination…
Dutt coughed confidentially. ‘’Nother fact, sir, if you don’t mind
… on account of we had a warrant I takes the liberty of ascending to the shover’s quarters, which are above the garage.’
‘Any luck, Dutt? Any letters?’
‘Nothink, sir. Just two from his aunt. And a lot of old football coupons which never won tuppence.’
A cloud drifted over the sun as Mrs Lammas entered. It was as though nature had conspired to put a dramatic point on the event. She paused in the doorway, delicately sniffing the alien smell of Hansom’s cigar. Her cool gaze ran disapprovingly over the moved furniture and the policemen rising to their feet. Then it fell on the table and the automatic which lay there. And she swept forward with a sort of withering grandeur.
‘Before we go any further, inspector, I should like to know by what right you have entered my husband’s bedroom and removed that gun from the place where it was kept!’
Gently shrugged expressionlessly. ‘We’ve entered nobody’s bedroom, ma’am… except the chauffeur’s over the garage.’
‘What nonsense, man! Do you take me for a fool? That gun was kept locked in a drawer beside my husband’s bed. I have just been to examine it. It is unlocked and empty. If you didn’t fetch the gun, then how did it get here?’
‘I ought to explain.’
‘You have exceeded your duty!’
‘This gun, ma’am, is not your husband’s.’
‘I know full well that it is!’
Gently sighed, picked up the gun and handed it to her.
‘Would you be kind enough to read the serial number, ma’am?’
‘There is no need for me to read the serial number!’
‘Is it’ — he fumbled for a dog-eared envelope — ‘is it 52 stroke 7981?’
‘No, it is not — but what does that signify?’
‘It signifies that it isn’t your husband’s gun… we obtained its serial number from the record of licences issued. This one was merely brought along to jog people’s memories…’
Her sharp eyes bored into him, challenging every word.
‘If it is as you say, then where is his gun?’
Gently extended his hands. ‘We’d like to know, of course…’
‘You told my son that Mr Lammas was shot. Is it your theory that he was shot with his own gun?’
‘It’s a fact that he was shot with a gun of that calibre.’
‘Then does not a simple explanation arise — that Mr Lammas committed suicide?’
‘Unfortunately it does not, ma’am. He was not shot where he was found.’
‘I see.’
She sniffed again at the offending wreathes of Havana.
‘Very well — we had better get down to this interview. I’m sorry if I was mistaken, inspector. You must understand that I am unused to invasions in this house, either from the police or other people. It is naturally upsetting to think that somebody is making free with one’s property.’
Gently nodded soothingly and ushered her to her seat. Mrs Lammas sat down regally, folding her tiny hands in her lap.
‘While we are on the subject, ma’am… has your husband’s bedroom been cleaned recently?’
‘It most certainly has. The rooms are run over daily.’
‘The furniture, however… it wouldn’t be polished daily?’
‘It is polished once a week. I believe the maid is working there now.’
Gently nodded to Dutt, who rose immediately.
‘You will have no objection, ma’am? It is essential that we inspect the bedroom.’
‘I seem to have very little option, inspector. The best I can expect is to be informed of what I must consent to.’
Dutt departed at speed after being given the location of the bedroom. Gently toyed with the automatic for a moment before slipping it away in his pocket. Outside a little breeze had sprung up, whispering in the green reeds: it set the white sails slanting and weaving more purposefully.
‘You had very little interest in your husband’s business, Mrs Lammas, apart from being a minor shareholder?’
‘I had none whatever, inspector. I very rarely went near the place. Whatever he did or did not do there was unknown to me.’
‘Did your daughter never volunteer information?’
‘My daughter is not the type to volunteer information. No doubt you have elicited the fact that she is to some degree estranged from me. I make no secret of it. She chose to be her father’s sympathizer and that has set a certain distance between us.’
‘I gather that there was a virtual separation between yourself and your husband, Mrs Lammas.’
‘Yes. We have lived as strangers for most of our marriage. I do not propose to enter into details of this, inspector; they would not concern you. But you may take it that a state of isolation obtained as complete as may be expected in a single household.’
‘You will forgive me for being frank… why was it you didn’t separate formally?’
‘Being equally frank, inspector, it was because my husband was useful to me.’
‘Would you like to enlarge on that, Mrs Lammas?’
‘Certainly, if you insist upon it. I am what you may call a person with a static attitude to life. I dislike changes and I dislike an ambiguous status. My husband was useful to me simply because he was my husband and once our relationship had been adjusted to my satisfaction I had no wish to have it altered. I will not deny that we clashed occasionally. You will have heard that he tried to assert his right to drag Paul into his business. But generally speaking we had learned to co-exist without perpetual friction and this I considered to be quite satisfactory. I trust I have answered your question?’
‘Thank you, Mrs Lammas… and of course you knew nothing of your husband’s association with Miss Brent?’
‘Nothing whatever.’
‘It would not have affected your attitude?’
Mrs Lammas made a swaying motion with her shoulder.
‘Naturally, I would not countenance my husband being interfered with.’
‘You would have taken some action, possibly?’
‘I should. But it would hardly be a fair question to ask me what.’
Gently nodded but made no comment. Mrs Lammas glanced at him challengingly and then added:
‘If I had known I might possibly have averted the tragedy which took place on Friday.’
‘Possibly, Mrs Lammas.’
She shrugged her shoulders and was silent.
‘With reference to that Friday…’ Gently fixed his eyes on a passing half-decker. ‘You were here all day until the evening?’
‘Yes.’
‘Your son went out on his motorcycle. Did he tell you he was going out… and where?’
‘He told me he was going for a run. He was not certain where he would go.’
‘I understand he suffers from a weak heart and that he was home from Cambridge, resting. Surely you would
