Pünd nodded.

‘It is strange,’ he said, ‘but standing on the balcony of my room on the night that you and I had dinner together, I had a strange presentiment that I should not have taken this case and events have proved me right. With your assistance I have solved the murder of Melissa James, but Francis Pendleton is another matter altogether.

‘Once again I must ask, why was he killed? Who in this room would have had a motive to silence him? I have suggested already that Nancy Mitchell had the greatest animosity towards him and with good reason. The Gardners, perhaps, had reason to fear him. Mrs Chandler and her son, without doubt, felt threatened by him.’

‘I never touched him!’ Eric wailed.

‘Oh stop snivelling, you big baby,’ Phyllis hissed under her breath.

‘Algernon Marsh is a ruthless operator who would do anything to protect his business enterprise. And we have yet to consider Samantha Collins.’

Samantha had been sitting as if in a trance from the moment her husband had confessed to the first murder. One of the policemen had brought in a cup of strong tea but she hadn’t touched it. She was clearly in shock. Now she roused herself and looked up. ‘What do you mean?’

‘In the church you told me of your dislike of Melissa James. I wondered briefly if it might have driven you to kill her. You strike me, if I may say, as the sort of woman who would do anything to protect her good reputation, her family, her children. What if Francis Pendleton knew of the relationship between his wife and your husband? What might you do to prevent him from making it public?’

‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘It was a thought only.’ Pünd dismissed it. ‘All these ideas came into my head, but I have dismissed each and every one of them. The Gardners may be petty criminals but they are not killers. Mr Marsh could have killed a man behind the wheel of his car, but he does not have the courage to do such an act deliberately. You, Miss Mitchell, are a good person and I wish you only happiness in your later life. Mrs Chandler, you could be more forgiving of your son, who needs, I would have said, your help rather than your anger. He, too, could not have committed this act of violence, and if he had, he would not have had the ability to disappear with the speed that was required.’

‘So who was it?’

He looked around him.

‘I will tell you why I should not be here,’ he went on. ‘I was approached by an American agent, a man named Edgar Schultz, who described himself as a senior partner at the agency of William Morris in New York. It was the first time I had been employed by a client I had never met and this made me uneasy from the start. I did make a brief investigation and can tell you that there is indeed such a man and he did represent Melissa James.

‘In my dealings with Mr Schultz, however, I noticed at once certain peculiarities. The letter that he sent me, for example, was addressed to “Mr Pünd”, but it is the practice in America to add a full stop after “Mr”. The full stop in this case was absent. And then there was the subsequent telephone call in which the sound quality was remarkably good. During the brief conversation, the man to whom I was speaking mentioned “some bright spark in the office” who had suggested contacting me. This struck me as a particularly English turn of phrase and it seemed strange coming out of the mouth of an American. As I say, I noticed these two anomalies but I set them aside. The letter could have been typed in haste. Mr Schultz could have English ancestry.

‘Last night, which was much too late, I telephoned Mr Schultz myself and knew at once that it was not the same man I had spoken to in my apartment in London. He confirmed that he had never written to me and did not know of my involvement. I have no right to be here in Tawleigh-on-the-Water. I was never, in truth, employed.’

‘That’s impossible!’ Miss Cain exclaimed. ‘I called William Morris myself. The assistant put me through to Mr Schultz’s office.’

‘It is a mystery, is it not, how this trick was performed, Miss Cain. Is it possible that you could have asked the operator for the wrong number?’

‘I hardly think so.’

‘You were, I recall, very keen that I should involve myself in this matter.’

‘I thought you’d find it interesting. There wasn’t very much else on your desk.’

‘That was the only reason?’

‘What other reason could there possibly be?’

‘Let us consider your behaviour since you arrived in Tawleigh-on-the-Water. When we first drove to Clarence Keep, you were, I would have said, quite awestruck by the sight of the house. You described it as “lovely” and then “gorgeous”. I did not know you well but it struck me as out of character as you did not often venture an opinion. I also observed that you had considerable knowledge of the work of Miss James. At the house, you were puzzled that there should be a poster of The Wizard of Oz as she had not appeared in that film. Later, when we were speaking with Mrs Collins, you recognised an allusion to another of her films, Pastures Green.’

‘Of course I knew her work, Mr Pünd. Doesn’t everyone?’

‘You would describe yourself as a fan?’

‘Well … ’

‘It is an interesting word, that. There are some who believe it is a shortened version of “fanatic”.’

‘I really don’t know what you’re getting at.’

‘Then I will enlighten you. I will begin first with a letter from one of Melissa James’s most devoted fans.’ Pünd produced a letter written on lilac paper in large, neat handwriting. Lance Gardner recognised it. The letter had been sent to the hotel. He had given it to Melissa himself. ‘“The screen is diminished without you,”’ Pünd read. ‘“A light has gone out of our lives.”’ He lowered the page. ‘Do you recognise those words?’

Miss Cain took a deep breath. ‘I wrote them,’ she admitted.

‘You did not wish me to know that,’ Pünd continued. ‘Which is why you seemed to faint when we were in Miss James’s bedroom. You knocked a pile of letters to the floor. You had seen your own letter on the top and knew that I would recognise your handwriting. Then, when you handed the pile back to me, you turned it upside down. It was a clever trick, that … ’

‘Well, it was a personal matter,’ Miss Cain protested.

‘As personal as the theft of an intimate item of clothing from Miss James’s bedroom drawer?’ Pünd looked at her angrily. ‘For reasons we do not need to discuss at this present time, his mother was convinced that Eric had taken it.’

‘I didn’t!’ Eric was quick to defend himself.

‘I believe you. A man who has been found guilty of breaking into a bank will not deny stealing the money! You had already admitted to one misdemeanour. You had no reason to deny a second. But if it was not you, who was it?’ He turned back to his assistant. ‘You were left alone in the house, Miss Cain. This was after you had pretended to become faint. You had ample opportunity to enter the bedroom.’

Madeline Cain twisted in her seat. ‘I’ve had enough of this!’ she exclaimed. ‘First you accuse me of lying to you. And now you say I’m a thief.’

‘I am saying that you are a fanatic,’ Pünd said. ‘Melissa James attracted many people who wrote to her and who adored her and who came to Tawleigh only to see her. You were one of them. You had a fanatical admiration for her.’

‘There’s no crime in that.’

‘But murder is a crime. Just now, when Dr Collins was exposed as Melissa James’s killer, you appeared shocked. Why was that?’

‘I’m not answering any more of your questions, Mr Pünd.’

‘Then I will tell you. You were shocked because when you murdered Francis Pendleton you did so in error. You killed the wrong man!’

The silence in the room was extraordinary. Now all the attention was on Miss Cain.

‘You were in the room when the detective chief inspector accused Francis Pendleton of the murder, and of course Francis believed that he was guilty and confessed. He had no way of knowing that his wife had in fact recovered and had subsequently been strangled by someone else. He said he was glad that it was all over and that he would make a full confession.