trifle anxious about Mrs Bannister. One or two minor matters in connection with the sale remained to be cleared up, but his client did not seem to be available. No doubt Mr—ah—Spain was calling on his sister-in-law’s behalf.
No, said Mr Spain, he wasn’t. He just wanted to know where Lilian was hiding herself.
Mr Scorpe frowned. Hiding is not the word for which solicitors much care.
“But I know of no reason,” said Mr Scorpe, “why Mrs Bannister should not be continuing to live at home until the date of completion. That is still a fortnight distant.”
“I don’t even know why she’s sold her house. No one does.”
Mr Scorpe examined him carefully for a moment over the top of heavy, blackframed spectacles.
“As a matter of fact,” said Mr Spain, “I was rather hoping that you might have some idea.”
“Of her whereabouts?”
“Not only that. We’d like to know what she had in mind—what put her up to this business.”
“I cannot recollect her saying anything about reasons or intentions.”
“The fact is, my wife’s a bit worried. I am, too. I mean, there’s that milk. A whole lot of it. She’s not taken it in.”
Mr Scorpe’s bushy brows registered recognition of a classic forensic symptom. After a thoughtful silence he leaned a little closer to Mr Spain.
“Tell me,” he said, “would you say that Mrs Bannister had been faced recently with some kind of—ah— financial obligation?”
Mr Spain shook his head.
“There is one point about this sale,” said the solicitor, “which I think in the circumstances I ought to mention. It is this—though of course you must regard it as strictly confidential. When the contract was signed, I made an advance to your sister-in-law—at her request—of four hundred pounds against the purchase price. It is sometimes done, you know, provided we have confidence in the parties concerned. And in this case everything was straightforward—no outstanding mortgage or anything.”
Mr Spain swallowed. “Actually, that’s not quite true.” He saw the solicitor stiffen with alarm and raised a reassuring hand. “No, what I mean is that when Jack died I lent Lilian enough to clear what she still owed the building society. About a hundred. We’ve not asked for it back.”
“I see.”
“But it makes things even more queer. I’m absolutely certain that Lilian wouldn’t try to dodge. She’s the kind who’d be round to pay a debt the same day as she got the money.”
Neither spoke for several seconds. Then Mr Scorpe cleared his throat portentously.
“I don’t much care for the sound of those milk bottles,” he said.
Mr Spain listened obediently, then realized what had been meant.
“No.” He got up. “I think I’d better...” Mr Scorpe nodded, his lips pursed most judiciously.
If Detective Inspector Purbright found Mr Spain’s tale a little lacking in circumstantial drama, he gave no sign of impatience. Relatives, he knew, were never inclined to credit odd propensities in those who had become as unexcitingly familiar as hatstands. Family loyalty seemed to anaesthetize imaginations that would transform the homes of neighbours into bordellos and put a Crippen behind every other shop counter.
He just soldiered on, courteous and tactful.
“Now, what sort of friends had your sister-in-law, Mr Spain? Would you know anything about that?”
“Friends? Well, no one special, really. One or two of the women round about, I suppose.”
“You can’t think of anyone with whom she might have gone to stay for a few days.”,
“I can’t. Nor can the wife. She’s no relations that I know of except for us and some people in Kirby Street and I happen to know she’s not been there.”
“How old is she? No, of course, you told me.” Purbright glanced at the notes on his knee. “Forty-three. What’s she like? You know—good-looking? Active?”
Mr Spain shrugged. Combining chivalry with accuracy was not going to be easy.
“I’d not call her a beauty, exactly. Quite nice, though. Quiet, but quite nice.”
That, reflected Purbright, was how Landru had liked them. And Mr Smith, with that bath of his. Aloud he said: “You don’t think Mrs Bannister had any intention of marrying again?”
“Oh, no.” The butcher seemed to find the possibility faintly indecent.
“She hasn’t a friend who might have been expected to...” The inspector spread one hand in elegant inquiry, looked at Mr Spain’s face and promptly changed tack.
“This money, now, Mr Spain. Do you suppose Mrs Bannister might simply have taken it into her head to go off on holiday, something a bit extravagant, perhaps? That is sometimes a sudden temptation to people who haven’t had much excitement and feel maybe they should take the chance and say nothing. After all, she had no ties.”
Mr Spain looked dubious. “I had wondered, actually. But Lilian’s always been so methodical. It’s that business of the milk I can’t get over. And I’m sure she would have let next door know.”
“You asked them?”
“Sort of. Just casually. I didn’t want to set anything off. You know.”
Purbright rose. He was very tall, but a slow amiability of manner prevented his height from being intimidating. Rather did he have the endearing ungainliness of some outsize domestic animal.
