‘It is more than generous of you, Mrs Collins.’ Pünd was smiling but suddenly he looked puzzled. ‘This aunt of yours. May I ask if she also left money to your brother in her will?’

Samantha’s cheeks coloured. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Algernon received nothing in the will. I’m afraid he disappointed her very badly when he was young and so she chose to cut him out. I was considering sharing some of the money with him, but – particularly in the light of what you’ve told me today – I don’t feel that’s a good idea. Curiously, my husband has been trying to persuade me otherwise. He’s come to the conclusion that it’s unfair to keep it all for ourselves. I can’t think why as when we first heard the news, he didn’t even want Algernon to know. But I don’t care what he says. I’ve made up my mind. Do you think that’s wrong of me?’

‘I think it would be impertinent of me to offer you any advice, Mrs Collins. But I will say that I completely understand your way of thinking.’

‘Thank you, Mr Pünd.’ She turned and looked wistfully at the cross standing on the altar. ‘I’d like to have a little time on my own, if you don’t mind. It’s so easy, isn’t it, to give way to hatred and unchristian thoughts. I feel, perhaps, I should pray for Melissa James and also for my brother. We’re all sinners in God’s eyes.’

Pünd bowed discreetly and left her to her ministrations, reflecting that she might also have considered praying for herself. He left the church and stood outside in the bright sunlight, surrounded by the graves. From here he could see Church Lodge and the window from which Samantha Collins had noticed Melissa James. He smiled to himself. He should perhaps believe in the power of the church more. The chance encounter had told him everything he needed to know.

SEVENTEEN

AT THE MOONFLOWER HOTEL

The main lounge at the Moonflower Hotel had been closed for the morning. A sign on the door apologised to guests that owing to a private function, it would not be available until midday, but free biscuits and coffee were being served in the bar. In fact, there were thirteen people who had gathered together before ten o’clock, including himself and Detective Chief Inspector Hare, and although Pünd was not at all superstitious, he had to concede that the gathering was certainly going to be unlucky for one of them.

He was standing in the centre of the room, wearing a neat, old-fashioned suit, his rosewood walking stick drawing a diagonal line from his hand to the side of his right foot. With his wire-frame spectacles and his quiet, studious demeanour, he could easily have been mistaken for a local schoolteacher, brought in to give a lecture on the history of Tawleigh or the local wildlife perhaps; the sort of event that often took place at the Moonflower.

His audience consisted of all the different people – suspects or otherwise – who had been involved in the deaths of Melissa James and Francis Pendleton. It had been Detective Chief Inspector Hare who had decided to bring them together. The effect was a touch theatrical, he knew, but this was his last case and why should he not enjoy a dramatic conclusion, even if he wasn’t the one who was going to be placed centre stage? That role was to be taken by Pünd.

Lance and Maureen Gardner, the general managers of the Moonflower, were perched on one sofa, already looking indignant, as if they had nothing to answer for, while Dr Collins and Samantha were on another, holding hands. Algernon Marsh had taken an armchair and was sitting with one leg over his knee, his hands folded in front of him. It was hard to believe that he was still under arrest and had only been brought here because Hare had arranged it. Simon Cox had also been summoned from London and was sitting in an identical armchair on the other side of the fireplace.

Eric Chandler and his mother had chosen two wooden chairs in front of a bookshelf. They were sitting next to each other but there was a wide space between them and they were avoiding each other’s eyes. Nancy Mitchell, who had been released from hospital, had also come with her mother and it was obvious from the way the older woman held on to her daughter that she now knew the truth about her pregnancy. Miss Cain was next to them, poised with her notebook and pen. She did not look happy and Hare remembered that she would much rather have returned to London. After everything that had happened, she almost certainly wished she had never come at all.

‘I am very glad to see everyone here today,’ Pünd began. ‘This has been a most unusual investigation – for two reasons. The first is that there were several people who had a motive to kill Melissa James. There were also a few people with a motive to kill Francis Pendleton. But to find the person with a motive to kill first one and then the other, from the very start that has been a challenge to me.

‘The second peculiarity of this case was drawn to my attention by my assistant, Miss Cain.’ He turned to her. ‘I am aware that this has been a terrible experience for you but even so I am indebted to you for providing me with what I have called the ten moments in time. I have asked my good friend Detective Chief Inspector Hare to reproduce them so that we can all examine the events between five forty and six fifty-six on the day that Miss James was killed.’

Hare had copied what Miss Cain had written onto a larger sheet of paper so that everyone in the room could see what had been written. Using two drawing pins, he attached it to the wall between the windows, much to the annoyance of Maureen Gardner. ‘We don’t need holes in the wallpaper, thank you,’ she muttered. He ignored her.

5.40 p.m.:Miss James leaves the Moonflower.

6.05 p.m.:Miss James arrives home.

6.15 p.m.:Francis Pendleton leaves Clarence Keep for the opera.

6.18 p.m.:Dog heard barking. Stranger arrives at Clarence Keep?

6.20 p.m.:Front door heard opening and closing at Clarence Keep.

6.25 p.m.:The Chandlers leave. The Austin has gone.

6.28 p.m.:Melissa James calls Dr Collins.

6.35 p.m.:Dr Collins leaves his home.

6.45 p.m.:Dr Collins arrives at Clarence Keep. Melissa James dead.

6.56 p.m.:Dr Collins calls police & ambulance.

‘As you can see, there are just seventeen minutes in which Melissa James could have been killed,’ Pünd went on. ‘It is very unusual to have such a narrow window of opportunity and this has also very much influenced my investigation. For example, it is impossible for Dr Collins or his wife to have committed the crime as they were at home at 6.28 p.m. when the telephone call took place. We know that a call was made at that time by Miss James as it was logged by the local exchange and, indeed, Mrs Collins overheard it. We also know that she was distressed by something and in need of a doctor or a close friend – and Dr Collins was both. Something had made her cry. There were tissues with her tears both in the bedroom where she was eventually found and in the living room downstairs.

‘Why, I wonder, in two places? This has always puzzled me. Where did her last, unhappy experience begin? If it was in the bedroom, why did she not pick up the telephone and call Dr Collins from there? If it was in the living room, what made her go back upstairs? The evidence would suggest that when she became upset, she spent more time in the bedroom … ’

‘How do you know that?’ Dr Collins asked.

‘There were two discarded tissues in the bedroom but only one in the living room. And there is another mystery. What actually happened to upset her? We still have no idea. Was the killer actually in the house when she made the call? Melissa James certainly believed so. “He’s here. I don’t know what he wants. I’m frightened.” These are the words reported to us by Dr Collins, which he heard on the phone.’

Pünd turned back to the sheet of paper he had pinned to the wall.

‘We can add certain other details to this period of time. We know now, for example, that Miss James had argued with her film producer, Simon Cox, before she left the hotel. The two of them had a parting of the ways. Did she return to Clarence Keep after this? No. For reasons that are unclear, she drove to the church of St Daniel’s, where she was seen by Mrs Collins. Meanwhile, Mr Cox followed her home but in fact arrived ahead of her. Approaching the house, he heard an argument between Mrs Chandler and her son.’

‘It was a private matter!’ Phyllis half rose from her chair.