‘What did you make of those two?’ Hare asked, glancing in the direction of the kitchen.

‘They are unhappy,’ Pünd replied. ‘And they have something to hide. That much is clear. But we must remember, Detective Chief Inspector, that Melissa James telephoned Dr Collins after they had both left.’

‘That’s what they say.’

‘Perhaps Dr Collins will be able to tell us more.’

*

Phyllis Chandler watched them leave from the kitchen window. Eric got up from the kitchen table and walked over to her.

‘He knows,’ Phyllis said, without turning round. ‘And if he doesn’t know yet, he’ll find out.’

‘What are we going to do?’ Eric’s voice came out as a whine. He felt like a small child all over again, watching his father leave for the army, coming home from school, waiting to hear what his mother had planned for him.

But this time she wasn’t having any part of it. ‘You mean, what are you going to do?’

She turned and walked away, leaving Eric alone with his dark thoughts.

TEN

COME, SWEET DEATH

Good morning. Welcome to Bedside Manor.’

Dr Collins had met them at the door of his home. He had taken off his jacket but still wore the shirt, tie and waistcoat they had seen him in earlier. There was a pipe in his hand.

‘It’s not actually called that,’ he went on. ‘The house has a rather dull name. Church Lodge. I wanted to change it but Samantha wouldn’t hear of it. She rather likes being lodged next to a church. But all my patients call it Bedside Manor and so do I. Come on in and have that cup of tea I promised you.’

With Pünd leading the way, they entered the cosy family home that the doctor and his wife had made for themselves in Rectory Lane. Everything – from the carpets to the curtains to the wallpaper – was a little the worse for wear but that was part of its charm. With coats of every size and colour bundled together in the hall, wellington boots lined up in a row, a wireless playing somewhere upstairs and the smell of freshly baked bread coming from the kitchen, it immediately felt lived in, in a way that Clarence Keep had not.

‘That’s my surgery over there,’ Dr Collins said, pointing at a door with the stem of his pipe. ‘Come into the living room.’

He showed them into a simple, square room with two bulging sofas, lots of shelves jammed with books, an upright piano that even before it was played managed to look completely out of tune, and some fading Victorian portraits. There was a cross, a crucifix, on top of the piano and a page of sheet music: ‘Come, Sweet Death’ by J. S. Bach.

‘Do you play the piano?’ Pünd asked.

‘Samantha does.’ Collins noticed the music. ‘She likes Bach, but I suppose that’s not completely appropriate at the moment.’ He turned it round so that the title was hidden. ‘Please take a seat. Samantha saw you arrive and she’ll be with you in a tick.’

‘Is your brother-in-law here, sir?’ Hare asked.

‘Algernon? Yes. He’s upstairs. Don’t tell me you want to see him too.’

‘It might be a good idea, sir. Before we leave.’

‘I hope you don’t think he had anything to do with it, Detective Chief Inspector. Algie is a bit of a loose cannon, but I don’t think he’d go that far!’

It was unclear to what extent Dr Collins was joking. A certain steel had come into his eyes as soon as Algernon’s name had been mentioned.

A few moments later, Samantha Collins arrived with the tea. It would, Pünd thought, have been hard to imagine her without a tray in her hands – or perhaps a basket of washing or a vacuum cleaner. There was, he remembered, an English word he might use to describe her. A busybody? No – that was not quite what he meant, although she had that sort of body, an attitude that suggested she was always busy. She had brownish hair that had begun to lose much of its colour, tied back with a ribbon. She wore no make-up. It struck Pünd that she did not seem to care very much how she looked, or perhaps it was simply that with her twin roles in the church and the surgery, she never had the time to do anything about it.

‘Good morning, Mr Pünd,’ she said. According to the clock, it was exactly 10 a.m.

‘Mrs Collins.’ He began to get to his feet.

‘Do sit down, please! I hope you don’t mind tea bags. It was either that or Earl Grey. It’s good to see you again, Detective Chief Inspector. And you must be Miss Cain.’

‘How do you do.’ Madeline Cain nodded but did not get up.

‘My husband told me that he’d met you at Clarence Keep and that you were coming here. You chose a good time. The children are with Mrs Mitchell at the lighthouse because we’re going out this afternoon, so it’s nice and quiet in the house. Do you take milk?’

‘A little, please.’

‘I’ll have mine with a slice of lemon if that’s possible.’ Miss Cain said.

‘Len – I left a saucer with some lemon slices in the kitchen. Do you mind?’

‘Right-ho!’ The doctor got up and left the room.

‘This has been the most terribly upsetting business,’ Samantha continued as she poured the tea. ‘A murder is such a horrible thing, and somehow strangling someone makes it worse. The last thing Melissa saw was the person who was killing her. The last thing she felt was his hands around her throat. We prayed for her last Sunday in the church. We had a reading of Psalm 23. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures … ”’

‘Pastures Green!’ Miss Cain had been making notes but now she looked up.

‘That’s right. That was the title of one of her films, so we thought it was an appropriate choice. The vicar delivered a wonderful homily about her.’

‘Were you close to her?’ Pünd asked.

Samantha thought before answering. ‘I can’t say that I was particularly close, Mr Pünd. Of course, everyone knew who she was and maybe that was part of the trouble. It’s not very easy to become friends with someone who’s famous.’

‘Here you are!’ Dr Collins had come back in with the lemon.

‘But you were acquainted with her,’ Pünd continued his line of questioning.

‘Oh yes. She came to this house quite a few times.’

‘She was not well?’

‘She was a bit run-down with all the problems she’d been having,’ Dr Collins said. ‘But actually it wasn’t me she came to see.’

‘My brother, Algernon, worked as her financial adviser,’ Samantha explained. ‘They spent a lot of time together.’

‘And I understand that your brother was staying with you on the day the crime took place.’

‘Yes, he was. He was out all afternoon with some friends and got in about seven o’clock.’

No alibi at time of death. Pünd noticed Miss Cain scribbling the words down on her pad.

‘Did you speak to him?’ Pünd asked.

‘No. He went straight to his room.’ Samantha looked perplexed. ‘Why are you asking all these questions about Algie? He would never hurt anyone.’

‘I am trying only to establish the facts,’ Pünd reassured her. He turned to Dr Collins. ‘It would help me if you could tell me exactly what occurred at the time of Miss James’s death, starting with the telephone call you received.’

Dr Collins nodded. ‘You know, I tried to save her,’ he said. ‘If I’d got there just a few minutes earlier, I might have.’

‘I am sure you did everything you could.’

‘I thought at first that I’d arrived in time. She was lying on the bed and I could see there’d been a struggle, but she looked – well, she might have been alive. The first thing I did was to feel for a pulse and there wasn’t one.’

‘Please. Begin at the beginning.’

Dr Collins drew a breath. ‘I was in the surgery with Samantha. What time was it, dear?’

‘Just before half past six.’

‘That’s right. The surgery had been fairly quiet that evening. Just Mr Highsmith with his rheumatism. And Mrs Leigh came in with the twins – both of them with whooping cough, although fortunately we caught it early. I was just packing up when the phone rang and it was Melissa.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She didn’t make a great deal of sense, Mr Pünd. She was clearly very upset. She said there was somebody in the house with her and could I come over straight away.’

‘She did not tell you the person’s name?’

‘I’m not sure she actually knew it. “He’s here!” – that was what she said. “I don’t know what he wants. I’m frightened.” She was crying. I told her to calm down and said I’d be right round.’ Once again he turned to his wife. ‘How long was I on the phone?’

‘Only a minute. Maybe not even as much as that.’

‘And did you hear any of the conversation, Mrs Collins?’

Samantha considered. ‘I could hear her voice. It was definitely Miss James. And I could see Len was alarmed so I came over to him. I heard her calling out for help.’

‘I got off the phone as quickly as I could,’ Dr Collins said. ‘I knew I had to get round there straight away. I grabbed my medicine bag and I went.’