“It might be argued,” said Purbright, “that active people are more liable to make enemies than the passive ones. Or would it be wildly unreasonable to expect this to apply in the field of good works?”
Miss Teatime raised a shrewd eye from her work. “I think you know as well as I do, inspector, that there is no more fertile soil for the burgeoning of homicide.”
“You shock me, Miss Teatime.”
“Oh no, I do not. You would not be here now if your thoughts had not been following the same line.”
“You mustn’t make too much of this. The person who killed Mrs. Palgrove is very clearly indicated by the evidence. I’ve no doubt that that person will be arrested and charged quite soon. But every other possibility must be examined thoroughly in the meantime.”
Miss Teatime drew taut the thread of another stitch. “And am I one of the other possibilities, inspector?” She was smiling.
“You received a letter yesterday from Mrs Palgrove.”
“That is correct. Have you read it?—Oh, yes, you must have done. I suppose a copy was in what I believe are called the effects of the deceased.”
“It was a very threatening letter, Miss Teatime.”
She shrugged lightly. “I can see that you are not accustomed to handling the correspondence of charitable societies, Mr Purbright. If one took seriously every hint of nefarious goings-on, one would have no time left for the collection of funds. And what would our animals do then, poor things?”
“There is no truth, I take it, in the suggestion that there has been misappropriation of funds.”
“None, of course. It is misapprehension, not misappropriation, that bedevils the work of charities. People do not realize how high is the cost of administration nowadays. Modern conditions demand the employment of all sorts of expensive devices—promotion campaigns, the public relations consultant, accountants, the business efficiency expert—even computers. My goodness, inspector, there is a great deal more to it than waving a collecting box. Which”—she raised a finger and smiled sweetly—“reminds me...”
She put the teddy bear aside and went to the fireplace, on the mantel of which was a box. She brought the box back and set it between them. “Just my little charge for allowing you to interview me!”
Purbright grinned and found some coins to drop in the box.
“Purely as a formality, Miss Teatime—you do understand that—could you just tell me where you were on the night of the twelfth—the night before last, that is? From ten o’clock onward, say.”
Her eyes widened. “In bed, inspector. Where else?”
He smiled. “It clearly would be impertinent of me to ask of whom I might seek corroboration of that.”
“Not in the least; I should take it as a compliment.” Her gaze saddened a little and fell. “But no, I have left things rather late. To tell the truth, it is regarding the physical side of marriage that I have always been apprehensive.”
He nodded, sympathetically.
“There so seldom seems to be enough of it,” said Miss Teatime.
She consulted a small silver dress watch. “Dear me, I fear that committee will be bearing down at any moment. Is there any other matter in which I may try and help you, inspector?”
His offer of a cigarette having met with a maidenly refusal, Purbright lit one himself and asked:
“Do you happen to be acquainted with a man called Hive?”
“Mortimer? Well, fancy your knowing Mortimer Hive. Oh, yes, we are old friends.”
“What does he do, precisely?”
“As a matter of fact, he is in your own line of business, inspector. Mr Hive is a detective. A private detective, of course—not on the panel, so to speak.”
“He doesn’t look much like a detective.”
“No? Well, he was not brought up to it, you know. But he had a very distinguished career in what I suppose is an allied calling. He was until fairly recently a groundsman.”
“Groundsman?”
She smiled at Purbright’s perplexity. “A little joke of his, inspector. Mr Hive was a professional co-respondent. He provided grounds for divorce, you know. Of course, you will not let this go any further?”
“Why, is it a secret?”
“Oh, no—not at all. But Mortimer is at that age when men tend to be a little vain and a little touchy about their physique. His close friends are well aware that he retired from business for reasons of health, but I suspect he would feel hurt if the fact were made generally known.”
“Do you know why he’s here in Flaxborough?”
“That is a question which I think you should address to him in person, Mr Purbright. The most that I can properly say is that his engagement is connected, as you might imagine, with the infidelity of one of our fellow citizens. Incidentally, I believe the client, as Mortimer would call him, has now terminated it. The engagement, I mean—not the infidelity. Although perhaps that has lapsed as well.”
“Can you suggest why Mr Hive has been keeping the husband of Mrs Palgrove under observation?”
Miss Teatime shook her head reprovingly. “Now, inspector!”
“Not even in strict confidence?”
