'Of course, that's the weak point, so far as I'm concerned, madam. I haven't anything in writing to say that Mr Nigel Kempson was to pick me up and nothing about the time or the place. I jotted them down, but that's not evidence, is it? And even if it was, I wouldn't have a case to take to court, I don't reckon, even if I was prepared to go as far as that, which, between ourselves, I would not be.'
'Just give me an account of what happened from the time you left your last appointment that evening and the time you decided that Mr Nigel Kempson was not going to put in an appearance,' I suggested.
The appointment, it appeared, had terminated at the Assembly Rooms in the Town Hall after he had taken photographs of the guests who attended a banquet there. He had taken three pictures in a matter of minutes. This was at half-past nine. From then until nearly ten o'clock, he and his assistant had been occupied in taking orders for copies of the photographs and had met with what he called 'about the usual run of luck' in selling the photographs later and in the matter of drinks.
They had then packed up their paraphernalia and he himself had crossed the road for another drink at the Goat and Grapes before that hostelry closed at ten-thirty, while his assistant had returned to the studio with the camera and so on. When the bar closed, the photographer, being known to the landlord as a personal friend, had been taken behind the bar to the back premises of the inn for a private drink which, incidentally, he would pay for on the morrow.
'It was to use up the half-hour before Mr Kempson was to pick me up,' he explained, 'but just in case he should be early, I went along to stand outside the cinema at ten to eleven, not to keep him waiting.'
'Ah, yes. You can prove this, of course; I said. He did not put up any pretence of not understanding me.
'You surely don't think I killed that poor young creature and that's why Mr Kempson didn't pick me up at eleven, do you?' he said. 'He never turned up, I tell you, and that's why I turned it in at midnight and went home, and pretty cheesed off I felt, I don't mind telling you. Well, I didn't think I ought to 'phone up at that time of night and the next day was Sunday and then, when I 'phoned on Monday morning, a policeman answered and told me to ring up later, as Mrs Kempson could not talk to anybody. Then, of course, it was in the local paper all about the murder, so I wouldn't bother her, like I said.'
'Yes, I see,' I said. 'Can you think of anybody who might have seen you standing outside the cinema waiting for Mr Nigel?'
'There were any number of people coming out of the cinema when it closed down at eleven. Some of them must have noticed me. Look here, are you to do with the police?'
'Sufficiently so for your purpose. I shall tell them about this interview and then they may contact you and make any enquiries they think fit.'
'You think I've been lying?' He could have sounded belligerent, but, as a matter of fact, he appeared to be alarmed. 'I assure you, madam, I've told you nothing but the truth. If Mr Kempson says he came to the cinema and didn't find me, he's the liar, not me. Hang it all, treat me fair! Which is more likely?'
'You have a point there, perhaps.'
'I never even knew the young girl.'
'Perhaps Mr Nigel is in a position to claim the same thing. However, it will be to your advantage to go to the police yourself and tell them what you have told me.'
'You don't mean I'm really suspected?' he said, looking even more alarmed.
'At the moment, neither less nor more than others,' I replied. His alarm had impressed me to some extent. I did not suspect him of murder. I did suspect that he had something to hide.
I went straight to the police station. The inspector was in his office dealing with various documents, but he received me courteously and asked what he could do.
'I want to know whether a telephone call came for Mrs Kempson while you were at Hill House on the Monday after Miss Patterson was murdered, Inspector.'
'Yes, there was a call.'
'Ah!'
'From the young lady's father.'
'Nobody else?'
'Nobody else. He was very distressed, of course, and asked what we wanted him to do. He said that his wife was in a state of collapse, but if he could be of any help he would come over. I advised him to stay put and we would let him know about the inquest, as his daughter would have to be identified formally.'
And you are positive that there was no other call for Mrs Kempson that day?'
'What is all this, ma'am?'
'Probably nothing of importance,' I said. 'I wondered whether the photographer had rung up to explain why he had not come to the house to take the pictures at the birthday party.'
'No, he didn't ring, ma'am.'
I could not understand why the photographer had told me such a lie. I went to the Town Hall. It is a pretentious but ugly building which mars an otherwise charming street. The porter on duty enquired my business in a civil manner, so I asked him whether he had been on duty at the banquet of which I
