‘Certainly not,’ said Wilt.
‘Nor this?’ said the Inspector, pointing to the bloodstains in the bath. Wilt shook his head. ‘And I suppose this has nothing to do with you either?’ He indicated a diaphragm that had been nailed to the wall above the lavatory seat. WHERE THE B SUCKS THERE SUCK I UNDERNEATH A DUTCH CAP NICE AND DRY. Wilt stared at the thing in utter disgust.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ he muttered. ‘It’s all so awful.’
‘You can say that again,’ the Inspector agreed, and turned to more practical matters. ‘Well, she didn’t die in here.’
‘How can you tell?’ asked the younger of the two detectives.
‘Not enough blood.’ The Inspector looked round uncertainly. ‘On the other hand one hard bash…’ They followed the bloodstains down the passage to the room where Wilt had been dollknotted.
‘For God’s sake don’t touch anything,’ said the Inspector, easing the door open with his sleeve, ‘the fingerprint boys are going to have a field day here.’ He looked inside at the toys.
‘I suppose you butchered the children too,’ he said grimly.
‘Children?’ said Wilt, ‘I didn’t know they had any.’
Well if you didn’t,’ said the Inspector, who was a family man, ‘the poor little buggers have got something to be thankful for. Not much by the look of things but something.’
Wilt poked his head round the door and looked at the Teddy Bear and the rocking horse. ‘Those are Gaskell’s,’ he said, ‘he likes to play with them.’
‘I thought you said you didn’t know they had any children?’
‘They haven’t. Gaskell is Dr Pringsheim. He’s a biochemist and a case of arrested development according to his wife.’ The Inspector studied him thoughtfully. The question of arrest had become one that needed careful consideration.
‘I don’t suppose you’re prepared to make a full confession now?’ he asked without much hope.
‘No I am not,’ said Wilt.
‘I didn’t think you would be, Wilt,’ said the Inspector. ‘All right, take him down to the Station. I’ll be along later.’
The detectives took Wilt by the arms. It was the last straw.
‘Leave me alone,’ he yelled. ‘You’ve got no right to do this. You’ve got–’
‘Wilt,’ shouted Inspector Flint, ‘I’m going to give you one last chance. If you don’t go quietly I’m going to charge you here and now with the murder of your wife’
Wilt went quietly. There was nothing else to do.
‘The screw?’ said Sally. ‘But you said it was the con rod.’
‘So I was wrong,’ said Gaskell. She cranks over.’
‘It, G, it. It cranks over.’
‘OK. It cranks over so it can’t be a con rod. It could be something that got tangled with the propshaft.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like weeds.’
‘Why don’t you go down and have a look yourself?’
‘With these glasses?’ said Gaskell. ‘I wouldn’t be able to see anything.’
‘You know I can’t swim,’ said Sally. ‘I have this leg.’
‘I can swim,’ said Eva.
‘We’ll tie a rope round you. That way you won’t drown,’ said Gaskell, ‘all you’ve got to do is go under and feel if there’s anything down there.’
‘We know what’s down there,’ said Sally. ‘Mud is.’
