There was a sharp and incredulous intake of breath from MacGregor but Colin Hooper didn’t notice. He was too busy putting on a bold face. ‘Well, I can’t see that it’s anything to make a fuss about, not these days. I mean, that Wittgenstein woman’s not all that much room to talk, has she? Some of the things they get up to over there’d make your hair curl but nobody goes round pointing a finger at them, do they?’
‘My dad did,’ sniffed Millie Hooper. ‘Oh, yes,’ – Colin Hooper nodded his head miserably – ‘your dad did.’
‘Well, that’s what we were bothered about, isn’t it? My dad.’ She turned apologetically to Dover. ‘I don’t know what I’m being such a silly about. It’s just that I haven’t really taken it in yet that my dad’s dead.’
‘Ah,’ said Dover.
MacGregor, as usual, was quicker on the uptake. He had to be, otherwise they’d have been sitting there all night. ‘Well, now, madam,’ he began with only a hint of menace in his voice, ‘perhaps you’d like to give us your version of what – er – happened. We’ve got Miss Wittgenstein’s statement, of course, but we want to be fair and’ – he made a great show of getting his notebook out – ‘hear your side of the story.’
‘That’s right,’ agreed Dover quickly so that Mr and Mrs Hooper wouldn’t start getting any erroneous ideas about who was top dog. ‘You just tell us all about it in your own words.* He gave MacGregor a warning glower. ‘Anything that’s not clear, I’ll ask the questions about.’
Millie Hooper sighed heavily, wiped her eyes on her husband’s handkerchief and blew her nose.
‘Just a minute!’ interposed Colin Hooper, finally dropping to below zero on Dover’s popularity chart. ‘I don’t see what this has got to do with anything.’
‘You wouldn’t!’ snarled Dover. ‘Well, take my word for it, laddie, it has.’
‘With Mr Chantry’s murder?’
‘Oh, stop arguing, Colin love,’ said Millie Hooper. ‘Just let’s get it over and done with.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Colin and me anticipated our marriage vows.’
‘ ’Strewth!’ groaned Dover and buried his head in his hands.
Millie Hooper felt cheated. When one has bared one’s innermost shame to a couple of complete strangers, one at least expects them to be shocked. ‘Twice!’ she added. ‘He climbed up on to the shed and through my bedroom window.’
‘And the Wittgenstein woman spotted him from their bathroom,’ said Dover, suddenly seeing the light and putting one smartly over MacGregor.
‘Yes. Both times.’
‘That’ll learn you!’ sniggered Dover.
MacGregor brought the conversation back to a more elevated level. ‘How did you find out that Miss Wittgenstein had seen you? Did she tell you?’
‘She couldn’t wait,’ said Millie Hooper sullenly.
‘But she promised not to say anything?’
‘She knew my dad would have gone through the roof if he’d found out.’
Millie Hooper was looking decidedly shifty and MacGregor began to probe deeper. ‘Did she try to make a bargain with you?’
‘A bargain? I’d call it more like blackmail. I don’t suppose she told you that bit, did she?’
‘Not exactly,’ said MacGregor cautiously.
‘Trust her!’
‘Did she want money?’
Millie Hooper shook her head. ‘Where would I have got money from? My dad paid all the bills and everybody in Sully Martin knew I only got two pounds a week allowance. You can’t get blood out of a stone. No, she just wanted me to use my influence, that’s all.’
‘With your father?’
‘That’s right. All this happened just about the time he started trying to get them tipped out of the Studio. Miss Wittgenstein promised she wouldn’t say a word about Colin if I’d persuade my dad to leave them alone. The Studio suited them down to the ground, you see, and they didn’t want to leave, especially when the rent was so low.’
MacGregor tapped his pencil thoughtfully against his teeth. ‘And you agreed?’
‘I hadn’t much choice. If my dad had ever suspected . . . I thought it would stall things off until after Colin and me were married because, of course, I daren’t say anything to my dad about the Studio. He wouldn’t have taken a blind bit of notice if I had.’
‘And this satisfied Miss Wittgenstein?’
‘Well, they haven’t been evicted yet and I kept telling her I was doing my best. To do her justice, I don’t think she wanted to tell my dad and, anyhow, there was no proof that he’d have believed her if she had.’
‘Hm.’ MacGregor made a few aimless squiggles in his notebook to give himself time to think.
Colin Hooper watched him anxiously. ‘But, it’s like I said, isn’t it?’ he demanded. ‘This has nothing to do with Mr Chantry’s murder. I mean, if Millie and me had wanted to do anything, we’d have murdered Miss Wittgenstein, wouldn’t we?’ The embarrassed laugh which accompanied this supposition fell on particularly stony ground.
‘Look, laddie,’ said Dover heavily as he hoisted himself up into a better position for bullying, ‘from the way things are developing round here, your father-in-law wouldn’t have needed the Wittgenstein woman to spill the beans, would he? He’d have guessed for himself that there’d been more than a bit of pre-marital hanky-panky.’
Colin Hooper bit his lip. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I mean the bun in the oven!’ growled Dover. ‘What were you reckoning on doing? Passing it off as premature?’
‘There was a sporting chance,' muttered Colin Hooper, exchanging an agonized glance with his wife.
‘With half the village wearing out their fingertips counting now?’ jeered Dover. ‘If that kid arrives nine months after your wedding day, it’ll have boots on! Now, you listen to me, laddie, because I’m going to give you some good advice. You give us a full confession and I’ll put in a good word for you with the judge. Now, I can’t say fairer than that, can I?’
‘A confession?’ Colin Hooper didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He glanced at MacGregor for some sort of guidance but the sergeant’s poker face was deliberately set on registering nothing. ‘I must be going
