‘Oh, I don’t know that I’d try that for a defence,’ said Dover, graciously giving the matter his careful consideration. ‘Suit yourself, of course, but – me – I’d sooner pay my debt to society in a prison rather than a looney bin.’
Colin Hooper clutched his head. ‘You can’t be serious!’
‘A clean breast now’ll make things much easier in the long run,’ Dover pointed out, without specifying whose convenience he had in mind.
‘You mean you’re really just sitting there, calmly asking me to put my head in a noose?’
‘Ah!’ Dover was glad of the opportunity to put this little misconception right. ‘That’s where you’re making your mistake, isn’t it? There aren’t any of the old necktie parties these days, laddie. More’s the pity, of course, but let’s look at things from your point of view. I reckon you’d be out in fifteen years or so with the best part of your life still before you. You’re one of the lucky ones. A few years ago and you’d have got the drop and no argument. And you don’t want to believe all that rubbish you read in the newspapers, either. Quick and painless?’ Dover’s flabby torso wobbled as he chuckled good-humouredly to himself. ‘Not on your nelly! Well, hangmen are only human, aren’t they? They make mistakes like the rest of us. It’s all a question of judging the drop properly, you see. Underestimate and you’re swinging about for hours, slowly choking to death. Overestimate and you get your head tom clean off. Here,' he pulled his feet sharply out of range – ‘she’s not going to be sick, is she?’
Millie Hooper eventually recovered enough to assure her husband that she was all right, really, and Dover, retreating to the far end of his sofa as a precaution, prepared to continue.
Colin Hooper, however, had had enough. Heaven knows what more of Dover’s social chit-chat might do to his unborn child. ‘Look, sir, could we get one thing quite straight. There’s absolutely no question of my making a confession because I damned well haven’t done anything.’
‘Come off it!’ scoffed Dover. ‘You and your missus have got enough motive for a dozen murders.’
‘You leave my wife out of this!’
‘All right, all right!’ Dover’s efforts to be obliging were rather touching. ‘If you want to shoulder all the guilt, I’m easy. Actually, it’s not a bad line to take. Most judges are right suckers for a whiff of the old chivalry. So – we’ll put it your way. You’ve got enough motive for a dozen murders. You collect all your father-in-law’s money and his business, you get this house to yourself and you forestall him finding out that you got his only daughter in the club before you escorted her down the aisle. What sort of an impression do you think that lot’s going to make on a jury, eh? Take it from me, laddie, they’d convict you without even leaving the box.’ MacGregor could have sunk through the floor with the shame of it all. A senior Scotland Yard detective going on like this! It was incredible. MacGregor knew it was incredible because it had happened before and none of his superiors, to whom he had submitted a series of highly confidential reports, had believed one word of them.
Colin Hooper jumped to his feet and installed himself firmly in front of the fire in what he hoped was a dominating position. He had wondered about refusing to say another word until he’d got a solicitor to protect his interests but he realized that such a move would only provide Dover with yet more grist for his mill. It was obvious that, in Dover’s book, only the guilty invoked their rights.
Colin Hooper cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. ‘Chief Inspector Dover, I did not kill Mr Chantry.’
Dover looked up and yawned.
‘And,’ – Colin Hooper sternly refused to quail – ‘I can prove it. On the night of the earthquake I left the house a few minutes after my father-in-law because I had to make sure that Millie would be all right. Well, when I got outside I couldn’t see him anywhere. The people in the cottages nearly opposite us were shouting for help and I started trying to get them out. After quite a little time, Mr Chantry came up. He said he’d got the Piles out of their house. Well, things were pretty hopeless where we were and after a bit Mr Chantry suggested that I should go and see if I could find somebody to give us a hand. That was the last time I saw him. I groped my way back to the top of East Street and came across Wing Commander Pile and Mr Lickes, and Jim Oliver was there, too. I told them what my father-in-law had said and Mr Lickes agreed to come back with me. Wing Commander Pile said something about getting some clothes and joining us later. Well, Mr Lickes and I came back over this way. There was a woman trapped somewhere, I think, and Mr Lickes stopped to get her free but I thought I’d better go on and try and find my father-in-law. I looked around for him for a bit as best I could but I couldn’t spot him anywhere. After a while I stopped bothering about him. Well, you can’t just step over somebody who’s screaming for help, can you? I carried on by myself as best I could and I didn’t worry about Mr Chantry because I thought he was doing the same sort of thing quite near by. It was only much later, when it got light and the proper rescue people arrived, that Millie and I began to get a bit worried when he didn’t show up.’ Colin Hooper folded his arms resolutely across his chest. ‘Now, is there anything else you want to know?’
Dover stared disconsolately into as much of the fire as he could see with Colin Hooper’s legs in the way.
MacGregor, however, had a
