'Not at all. It's this business at Much Benham. No – what's the actual name, St Mary Mead?'
'Yes. That's right. Gossington Hall.'
'Can't think what Jason Rudd wanted to buy a place like that for. Plenty of good Georgian houses in England – or even Queen Anne. Gossington Hall is a purely Victorian mansion. Where's the attraction in that, I wonder?'
'Oh, there's some attraction – for some people, that is, in Victorian stability.'
'Stability? Well, perhaps you've got something there. Marina, I suppose, had a feeling for stability. It's a thing she never had herself, poor girl, so I suppose that's why she always covets it. Perhaps this place will satisfy her for a bit.'
'You know her well, Mr Fenn?'
Ardwyck Fern shrugged his shoulders.
'Well? I don't know that I'd say that. I've known her over a long period of years. Known her off and on, that is to say.'
Craddock looked at him appraisingly. A dark man, heavily built, shrewd eyes behind thick glasses, heavy jowl and chin, Ardwyck Fenn went on:
'The idea is, I gather, from what I read in the newspapers, that this Mrs Whatever-her-name-was, was poisoned by mistake. That the dose was intended for Marina. Is that right?'
'Yes. That's it. The dose was in Marina Gregg's cocktail. Mrs Badcock spilt hers and Marina handed over her drink to her.'
'Well that seems pretty conclusive. I really can't think, though, who would want to poison Marina. Especially as Lynette Brown wasn't there.'
'Lynette Brown?' Craddock looked slightly at sea.
Ardwyck Fenn smiled. 'If Marina breaks this contract, throws up the part – Lynette will get it and it would mean a good deal to Lynette to get it. But for all that, I don't imagine she'd send some emissary along with poison. Much too melodramatic an idea.'
'It seems a little far-fetched,' said Dermot dryly.
'Ah, you'd be surprised what women will do when they're ambitious,' said Ardwyck Fenn. 'Mind you, death mayn't have been intended. It may have been just to give her a fright – Enough to knock her out but not to finish her.'
Craddock shook his head. 'It wasn't a borderline dose,' he said.
'People make mistakes in doses, quite big ones.'
'Is this really your theory?'
'Oh no, it isn't. It was only a suggestion. I've no theory. I was only an innocent bystander.'
'Was Marina Gregg very surprised to see you?'
'Yes, it was a complete surprise to her.' He laughed amusedly. 'Just couldn't believe her eyes when she saw me coming up the stairs. She gave me a very nice welcome, I must say.'
'You hadn't seen her for a long time?'
'Not for four or five years, I should say.'
'And some years before that there was a time when you and she were very close friends, I believe?'
There was very little change in the voice but there was something there that had not been there before. A hint of steel, of menace. Dermot felt suddenly that this man would be a very ruthless opponent.
'It would be as well, I think,' said Ardwyck Fenn, 'that you said exactly what you do mean.'
'I'm quite prepared to do so, Mr Fern. I have to inquire into the past relations of everyone who was there on that day with Marina Gregg. It seems to have been a matter of common gossip that at the time I have just referred to, you were wildly in love with Marina Gregg.'
Ardwyck Fenn shrugged his shoulders.
'One has these infatuations, Inspector. Fortunately, they pass.'
'It is said that she encouraged you and that later she turned you down and that you resented the fact.'
'It is said – it is said! I suppose you read all that in Confidential?'
'It has been told me by quite well informed and sensible people.'
Ardwyck Fern threw back his head, showing the bull-like line of his neck.
'I had a yen for her at one time, yes,' he admitted. 'She was a beautiful and attractive woman and still is. To say that I ever threatened her is going a little too far. I'm never pleased to be thwarted, Chief-Inspector, and most people who thwart me tend to be sorry that they have done so. But that principle applies mainly in my business life.'
'You did, I believe, use your influence to have her dropped from a picture that she was making?'
Fenn shrugged his shoulders.
'She was unsuitable for the role. There was conflict between her and the director. I had money in that picture and I had no intention of jeopardizing it. It was, I assure you, purely a business transaction.'
'But perhaps Marina Gregg did not think so?'
'Oh, naturally she did not think so. She would always think that anything like that was personal.'
'She actually told certain friends of hers that she was afraid of you, I believe?'
'Did she? How childish. I expect she enjoyed the sensation.'
'You think there was no need for her to be afraid of you?'
'Of course not. Whatever personal disappointment I might have had, I soon put it behind me. I've always gone on the principle that where women are concerned there are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it.'
'A very satisfactory way to go through life, Mr Fenn.'
'Yes, I think it is.'
'You have a wide knowledge of the moving picture world?'
'I have financial interests in it.'
'And therefore you are bound to know a lot about it?'
'Perhaps.'
'You are a man whose judgement would be worth listening to. Can you suggest to me any person who is likely to have such a deep grudge against Marina Gregg that they would be willing to do away with her?'
'Probably a dozen,' said Ardwyck Fern, 'that is to say, if they hadn't got to do anything about it personally. If it was mere matter of pressing a button in a wall, I dare say there'd be a lot of willing fingers.'
'You were there that day. You saw her and talked to her. Do you think that amongst any of the people who were around you in that brief space of time – from when you arrived to the moment when Heather Badcock died – do you think that amongst them you can suggest – only suggest, mind you, I'm asking you for nothing more than a guess – anyone who might poison Marina Gregg?'
'I wouldn't like to say,' said Ardwyck Fenn.
'That means that you have some idea?'
'It means that I have nothing to say on that subject. And that, Chief-Inspector Craddock, is all you'll get out of me.'
Chapter 15
Dermot Craddock looked down at the last name and address he had written down in his note-book. The telephone number had been rung twice for him but there had been no response. He tried it now once more. He shrugged his shoulders, got up and decided to go and see for himself.
Margot Bence's studio was in a cul-de-sac off the Tottenharn Court Road. Beyond the name on a plate on the side of a door, there was little to identify it, and certainly no form of advertising. Craddock groped his way to the first floor. There was a large notice here painted in black on a white board 'Margot Bence, Personality Photographer. Please enter.'
Craddock entered. There was a small waiting-room but nobody in charge of it. He stood there hesitating, then
