slacks and an old polo-necked sweater, was bending into the bonnet of the E-type Jaguar that was credibly reputed to be Regina’s last birthday present to him. Stockwood, in overalls, was washing down the Bentley. He turned his head at the hollow sound of footsteps under the stable archway, and showed that proud, dark face of his, withdrawn and defensive as a Romany. For a moment he was motionless. Water streamed from his rubber brush down the flanks of the car, and flowed away into the drain.
Peter Blacklock took his head out of the car’s innards, and shook back the lank fair hair from his forehead with a nervous toss of his head.
‘Oh, hallo, Felse!’ Something of consternation, something of resignation, showed in his long, hypersensitive features for an instant, and then was gone as suddenly, leaving only his usual faintly weary but beautifully modulated politeness. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come. Were you looking for me?’
He leaned into the car and switched off the purring engine, and stood wiping his hands on a tangle of cotton- waste. ‘Am I allowed to ask about Annet? We’ve been – we
‘No, nothing new.’ He didn’t want to talk to anyone about Annet, he didn’t want to show to anyone else even a part of what she had made him experience. ‘We’re still filling in details wherever and however we can – about all the people we can. Do you mind if I ask Stockwood a few questions?’
‘If you must,’ said Peter, frowning. ‘But I thought you’d already done with him. He accounted for himself to one of your fellows yesterday. Something the matter with the liaison, or what?’
‘Nothing the matter with the liaison. Just a double check for safety’s sake. And you might fill in the timing of the week-end for me yourself first, if you will. Mrs Blacklock went off to Gloucester on the Thursday afternoon. Stockwood drove her down and brought back the car, because she was meeting a friend there who could run her about locally. You then gave him the whole long week-end off, I understand. Exactly when did he leave here, and when did he return?’
In the very brief moment of quietness Stockwood leaned and turned off the tap. He laid down the brush and took a step towards them, waiting in readiness, dark colour mounting in his face and blanching again to pallor.
‘He garaged the car about a quarter to five,’ said Peter in a thin, brittle voice, his long face sagging with reluctance and distress. ‘I told him he could consider himself free until the following Wednesday noon, and then come in for the Bentley and fetch my wife home. I told him if he liked he could make use of one of the BSAs for his weekend, and he said yes, he would like to. I don’t know what time he left the lodge, but it was all in darkness before six o’clock. He came back prompt at noon on Wednesday, and drove to Gloucester to bring Reginaback.’
‘You didn’t ask him where he was going?’
‘I didn’t. I don’t. Nor where he’d been, when he came back. He’s my wife’s employee, not mine, but even if he were mine I shouldn’t think that gave me any right to ask him where he spends his free time. Only his working hours are bought and paid for.’ He added gently and wearily: ‘Your business, of course, it may very well be.
The young man dried his hands carefully, automatically, confronting them both with a wary face and narrowed eyes. He had left it too late to protest at being interrogated again, and far too late to pretend surprise or indignation. He waited, moistening his lips, a glitter in his eyes that might have been anger, but looked closer kin to desperation.
‘I think,’ said George after a moment of thought, ‘I’d better talk to Stockwood alone. If you don’t mind?’
Blacklock did mind, that was abundantly clear; he felt a degree of responsibility for all the members of his wife’s staff, and was reluctant to abandon any of them to the mercies of the police, however implicit his faith might be, in theory, in British justice. He hesitated for a moment, swung on his heel to pick up his jacket from the stone bench in the middle of the yard.
‘All right! I’ll see you when you’ve finished, Felse. Look in at the house for a moment if I’m not around, will you?’
He went out through the deep archway between the coach-houses with his long, nervous stride, and vanished up the slope of the field towards the hall.
‘Well?’ said George. ‘Where
The young man drew breath carefully between lips curled in detestation and fright. ‘I’ve told you already. I told your bloke who was here yesterday—’
‘You told him you went to a fishing inn up the Teme valley – I know. Not having a home of your own to go to.’
Stockwood’s head jerked back, the gipsy face took fire in a brief blaze of defiance quickly suppressed.
‘You thought the landlord was a friend of yours, and quick on the uptake, and would see you through. Maybe he promised you he would, when you ’phoned him. Maybe he really would, up to a hold-up or a smash-and-grab. But as soon as he smelled murder he packed it in. He’d not getting lumbered with any part of it, boy. And you weren’t at the Angler’s Arms last Saturday night. So where were you?’
The colour had ebbed from Stockwood’s face so alarmingly that it seemed there could not be enough blood in him to keep his heart working. George took him by the arm and sat him down, unresisting, on the stone bench. The lean young face, self-conscious and proud, stood him off steadily; and in a moment the blanched lines of jaw and mouth eased.
‘That’s better. Take it quietly. It’s very simple. You gave us a phoney tale about where you spent your free week-end. Now all I want is the truth, and for your own sake you’d better produce it. You’d have done better,’ he said dryly, ‘to stick to it in the first place, when you came here after the job. Why didn’t you tell Mrs Blacklock you had a prison record? Oh, no, I haven’t told her, either, so far this is just between you and me. But you must have cased the job and the people before you tried it, you should have been able to judge that she’d take you even with a stretch behind you – maybe all the more.’
‘I didn’t know,’ said the young man through tight lips. ‘How could I? I wanted the job, and I was on the level. I didn’t dare to risk what she’d do if she knew.’
‘I’m telling you, she’d have taken you on just the same. She’d pride herself on giving you your chance.’
‘That’s what you fellows always say. And that’s what women like her always say. But when it came to the point how could I be sure? I’ve done the job properly,’ he said, stiffening his neck arrogantly, and stared up into George’s face without blinking. ‘Didn’t take your lot long to get after my record, did it?’
