It was only a few minutes before Lewis knocked and entered.
'Ah, Lewis. The gods, me thinks, have smiled weakly on our inquiries.' He outlined the developments in the case. 'I want Miss Jennifer Coleby brought in for questioning. Be careful. Take Policewoman Fuller with you if you like. Just held for questioning, you understand? There's no question at all of any formal arrest. If she prefers to ring up her legal advisers, tell her it's Sunday and they're all playing golf. But I don't think you'll have much trouble.' On the latter point, at least, Morse guessed correctly.
Jennifer was sitting in interrogation room 3 by 3.45 p.m. On Morse's instructions, Lewis spent an hour with her, making no mention whatever of the information he had been given earlier in the afternoon. Lewis mentioned quietly that, in spite of all their inquiries, they had not been able to trace the young lady, seen by two independent witnesses, who had been with Sylvia Kaye an hour or so before she was murdered.
'You must be patient, Sergeant.'
Lewis smiled weakly, like the gods. 'Oh, we're patient enough, miss, and I think with a little cooperation we shall get there.'
'Aren't you getting any co-operation?'
'Would you like a cup of tea, miss?'
'I'd prefer coffee.'
Policewoman Fuller hurried off; Jennifer moistened her lips and swallowed; Lewis brooded quietly. In the tug-of-war silence which ensued it was Lewis who finally won.
'You think I'm not co-operating, Sergeant?'
'Are you?'
'Look, I've told the Inspector what I know. Didn't he believe me?'
'Just what did you tell the Inspector, miss?'
'You want me to go over all that again?' Jennifer's face showed all the impatience of a schoolgirl asked to rewrite a tedious exercise.
'We shall have to have a signed statement in any case.'
Jennifer sighed. 'All right. You want me to account for my movements — I think that's the phrase, isn't it? — on Wednesday night.'
'That's right, miss.'
'On Wednesday night. .' Laboriously Lewis began to write. 'Shall I write it out for you?' asked Jennifer.
'I think I ought to get it down myself, miss, if you don't mind. I haven't got a degree in English, but I'll do my best.' A quick flash of caution gleamed in Jennifer's eyes. It was gone immediately, but it had been there and Lewis had seen it.
Half an hour later, Jennifer's statement was ready. She read it, asked if she could make one or two amendments—'only spelling, Sergeant'—and agreed that she could sign it.
'I'll just get it typed out, miss.'
'How long will that take?'
'Oh, only ten minutes.'
'Would you like me to do it? It'll only take me about two.'
'I think we ought to do it ourselves, miss, if you don't mind. We have our regulations, you know.'
'Just thought I might be able to help.' Jennifer felt more relaxed.
'Shall I get you another cup of coffee, miss?'
'That would be nice.' Lewis got up and left.
Policewoman Fuller seemed singularly uncommunicative, and for more than ten minutes Jennifer sat in silence. When the door finally opened it was Morse who entered carrying a neatly typed sheet of foolscap.
'Good afternoon, Miss Coleby.'
'Good afternoon.'
'We've met before.' The tide of relaxation which had reached high watermark with Lewis's departure quickly ebbed and exposed the grating shingle of her nerves. 'I walked down to the library after I left you yesterday,' continued Morse.
'You must enjoy walking.'
'They tell me walking is the secret of perpetual middle age.'
With an effort, Jennifer smiled. 'It's a pleasant walk, isn't it?'
'It depends which way you go,' said Morse.
Jennifer looked sharply at him and Morse, as Lewis earlier, noted the unexpected reaction. 'Well, I would like to stay and talk to you, but I hope you will let me sign that statement and get back home. There are several things I have to do before tomorrow.'
'I hope Sergeant Lewis mentioned that we have no authority to keep you against your will?'
'Oh yes. The sergeant told me.'
'But I shall be very grateful if you can agree to stay a little longer.'
