Have you a warrant?
No. But we can soon get one.
Nunne said quickly:
Oh, not at all. Please do look, by all means.
The sergeant went out of the room. A moment later, Sorme heard more men coming in from outside. Macmurdo seated himself in the chair Nunne had vacated. He asked Sorme:
And may I ask how you got here?
By car. Miss Quincey — Austin's aunt — drove me down.
How did you know Air Nunne was here?
Why, we had a long talk after you'd gone and tried to decide where he might be. Finally, she remembered this place…
Where is she now?
In the Crown Hotel.
For the first time, Sorme felt alarm. He felt no fear for himself or Nunne, but Gertrude was a different proposition. He felt a pang of regret for telling her about Nunne. But she knew very little. Even if she admitted…
A plainclothes policeman came into the room and beckoned to Macmurdo; Nunne's eyes met Sorme's for a moment as the Inspector went out of the room. A moment later, he came back.
Would you mind telling me, Mr Nunne, why the fireplace upstairs is full of warm ashes?
Nunne said, smiling:
Oh, of course. I started to make a fire in the bedroom. Then Gerard arrived and I forgot. You'll see the wood and coal in the room…
Did you put any wood on it?
No. I was rather cold. So I lit a grateful of paper and some oily rags. I was sitting there enjoying the blaze when Gerard arrived.
Where were the oily rags from?
Oh… the shed outside. The decorators left them.
Which explains the smell of paraffin?
Quite.
Macmurdo said:
Decorators use turpentine.
Nunne said, shrugging:
I'm afraid I'm not responsible for what the decorators leave behind. Why does it matter, anyway?
Macmurdo ignored the question. He said:
Why are you in your shirtsleeves if you were cold an hour ago?
Nunne said:
Because this room was very warm indeed an hour ago. As my friend here will tell you. You'll find my jacket and pullover on the bed upstairs.
And what had you been burning in the kitchen stove?
Oh… more rubbish. Newspapers mainly. I like lighting fires.
You hadn't been burning anything else… clothes, for instance?
Nunne said, with a touch of impatience:
You mean bloodstained clothes? Look, Inspector, you don't have to keep fencing with me. I'd like to help you. Just ask me what you like, and I'll answer you as accurately as I can.
Macmurdo repeated deliberately:
Were there any clothes?
No.
You know it's something we can easily verify? By analysing the ash?
Nunne said:
Good. I'm glad to hear that. That should save trouble.
Macmurdo said:
I see.
He leaned forward, as if peering at the paraffin heater. He turned to Nunne suddenly, and said:
What did you do with Millie Rogers?
Sorme's heart lurched unpleasantly; he could see that Nunne was taken by surprise. Nunne said:
I beg your pardon?
Macmurdo said:
You were seen speaking to a woman named Millie Rogers outside a club in Paddington. The Balalaika Club. She was heard to say that she would come home with you. She hasn't been seen since.
Nunne said coolly:
I haven't the faintest idea of what you are talking about, Inspector. And in case you didn't know, my tastes don't lie in that direction.
You deny knowing a woman of that name?
I most certainly do.
You deny speaking to her?
No. Not necessarily. I might quite easily have spoken to a woman of that type if she'd accosted me. So, I imagine, might thousands of other men.
How do you know she was of 'that type'?
Really, Inspector! You don't leave much room for doubt!
The detective-sergeant came back into the room. He was holding a red beret. Macmurdo took it from him. The sergeant said.
Found it in the wardrobe in the bedroom, sir.
Macmurdo asked Nunne:
Whose is it?
Nunne smiled; he said:
Believe it or not, Inspector, it belongs to my aunt. She left it here.
The lady who's waiting now in the Crown?
Yes.
She's been down here?
Once. I took her for a spin in my aeroplane.
Is that the lady who said she didn't know where you might be? Macmurdo asked, with a note of sarcasm.
It is.
And why do you suppose she didn't mention this place to me when I asked her this morning?
Sorme interrupted:
I can tell you that. She'd forgotten it. Besides, it was quite a shock to her to have policemen looking for her nephew.
Macmurdo stared at Sorme with hostility; for a moment, Sorme expected an irritable rebuke. Then the policeman turned away, shrugging, and handed the beret back to the sergeant. He said:
Take some samples of the ash, sergeant.
He turned back to Nunne.
Do you mind if I see your hands?
Nunne held out his hands without speaking. Macmurdo took them in his own, and turned them over. He said:
You've cleaned your nails today.
Of course. I clean my nails every day.
You seem to have been particularly thorough today.
No. Not particularly.
Macmurdo dropped Nunne's hands. Sorme could see he was disappointed; his mouth was beginning to
