‘And someone’s been charged with the murder.’
‘Yes. We happen to believe that the police have got the wrong culprit. Which is why we are checking what everyone was doing during the meal-break.’ By now he had slipped into the voice he had used as a Detective- Inspector (shortly to be killed) in a
The Detective-Inspector manner had its effect. Tim Dyer spoke unwillingly, but at least he spoke. ‘I went down to the floor where the studios are. I just wanted to have a look round. I was nervous, you know, wanted to get on the set, get the feel of it. I thought it’d calm me down.’
‘And, once in the studio, what did you do?’
‘I. . well, I just looked round. You know, round the back.’
‘You looked at the displays of prizes?’
‘All right. So what if I did? I needed to psych myself up for the show. I needed to sort of get the adrenaline going.’
‘So you went and gazed at the Austin Metro?’
‘Yes,’ the contestant admitted sheepishly.
‘And that’s all you did?’
‘Yes.’ But Tim Dyer would not look into his interrogator’s eyes as he spoke.
‘You were out of the Conference Room for twenty-five minutes. Sounds like a long time to look at a car.’
‘Well, I didn’t go into the studio straight away.’
‘What, not immediately after you left the lift?’
‘No. I was going in there, but I saw one of the celebrities coming along the corridor and I didn’t feel like chatting, so I turned into one of the phone booths along there till he’d gone past.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Bob Garston.’
‘And he was coming from Studio A?’
‘From that direction, certainly.’
‘This was straight after you came out of the lift?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, say, twenty-past six?’
‘Round then.’
‘Was Bob Garston on his own?’
‘No, he was with Joanie Bruton’s husband.’
‘Roger Bruton, eh?’ Charles looked at Sydnee. ‘Who’d presumably just escorted his wife into Make-up.’ She nodded. ‘So, Tim, you just stayed in the phone booth as they walked past?’
‘That’s what I meant to do, but they stopped just outside and talked for a bit.’
‘Did you hear what they said?’
‘Yes. It was strange. Bob Garston was saying, “I didn’t think anyone knew about it. Still, since you obviously do, you’ll understand that I’m finding it pretty difficult to work in the same studio as the bastard.” And Roger Bruton said, “Joanie’s done a lot of counselling on infidelity in marriage. You ought to talk to her about it. She’s very understanding.” And Bob said, yes, perhaps he would.’
‘And that was it?’
‘Yes. Then they walked on.’
‘And you came out of the phone booth and went into Studio A?’
‘Yes.’
‘To look at your car.’ Tim Dyer did not deem this worthy of comment, so Charles went on. ‘Did you see anyone in the studio?’
A twisted smile came to the contestant’s lips. ‘Only you.’
‘Oh.’
‘I saw you swigging from his glass.’
Charles blushed, but pressed on. ‘So you knew that it didn’t contain cyanide at that point.’
‘Never occurred to me that it would. Why should I think that?’
‘Somebody put cyanide in it between six-thirty and seven.’
‘Well, don’t look at me. What do you take me for? I wouldn’t do anything like that.’
‘No, I don’t think you probably would.’ A new thought struck Charles. ‘Just a minute. You say you saw me drinking from Barrett’s glass. .’
‘Yes.’
‘I didn’t see you.’
‘So?’ Tim Dyer looked uncomfortable.
‘If you’d been behind the curtain round the back of the set, you wouldn’t have been able to see me. If you’d been in the audience seating, I’d have seen you. That means you must have been out of sight, actually on the set.’
‘Well. .’ Tim Dyer began wretchedly.
‘And the only thing on the set big enough to hide you would have been the spinning wheel.’ Suddenly Charles knew he was right. ‘You were behind that wheel. . tampering with it.’
‘No, I wasn’t.’ But the denial carried no conviction.
‘Wouldn’t take much, would it? All you needed to do was fix a counterweight on the wheel, directly opposite the crown, and that would guarantee it would always come to rest with the crown overhead. Simple.’
Charles knew from the man’s expression that he had inadvertently hit on the truth. Confidently, he asked one final question. ‘You didn’t see anyone else in the studio after I left?’
Tim Dyer shook his head miserably and whispered, ‘I went out straight after you. Didn’t see anyone else.’
There was a long silence. Then Sydnee rose to her feet. ‘Better be going, I suppose.’
Charles got up too, and they moved towards the hall. Just before they left the room, Sydnee looked back and said, ‘And, if you want to take up that point about cheating over the car, I suggest you get in touch with our Legal Department.’
Tim Dyer did not respond. He stayed crumpled in his chair, looking as comically guilty as a schoolboy with stolen jam on his face.
Chapter Eight
Sydnee rang Charles the next morning. ‘You were right,’ she said.
‘About what in particular?’
‘Tim Dyer trying to fix the wheel. I spoke to Sylvian this morning.’
‘Who?’
‘Sylvian de Beaune, the designer. I mentioned what we thought might have happened, and he went to check. The set’s in store, you see, waiting for the definite go-ahead on the second pilot. Anyway, there it was — small polythene bag filled with sand, stuck on the back of the wheel with sticky tape, just opposite the crown. As you said.’
‘Quite a feat of improvisation, to sort that out in the studio.’
‘I think Mr Dyer went prepared.’
‘Took the sandbag with him, you mean?’
‘Wouldn’t surprise me. As we know, he’s a
‘Bloody nerve. Where’s the traditional British spirit of fair play?’
‘That was invented before game shows.’
‘Yes. I suppose no one could have predicted the day when ritual humiliation would become a participant
