Read Murder and Mittens Page 13

Chapter 13 – the interviews

  Inspector Brighton and Sergeant Wolf both got out of the car. Inspector Brighton looked furious; his dark brows were drawn together in a frown. Sergeant Wolf didn’t look happy, either.

  ‘Where did you think you were going?’ the inspector ground out.

  Etta could feel her knees shaking. She hated confrontations. Jen nudged her.

  ‘Us, inspector?’ Jen asked.

  ‘Who else was I chasing along the road?’ he flung out.

  ‘We didn’t think you were chasing us, did we, miss?’

  The sheer effrontery of this statement took Etta’s breath away and apparently the inspector’s for a second.

  Then he roared, ‘answer me, where were you going?’

  ‘Miss Ashcroft fancied some fresh air and thought we might do a little shopping at the same time, isn’t that right, miss?’

  ‘Yes,’ squeaked Etta.

  ‘I’d like your mistress to answer me. Miss Ashcroft, where were you going?’

  ‘As Jane said, to do some shopping and to get some fresh air.’

  ‘Even though I had expressly forbidden anyone from leaving?’

  Etta couldn’t think of a reply but Jen could.

  ‘But inspector, you let us go to the cinema last night,’ she protested.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, I assumed, I mean we assumed that meant you didn’t mind people leaving the hall.’

  Brilliant, Etta wanted to shout. She was so proud of her mother.

  ‘Really?’ The inspector put a wealth of disbelief into that one word. ‘I hope you don’t mind if we search your car?’

  ‘Feel free,’ was Etta’s reply.

  She and Jen got out of the car and waited by the side while Sergeant Wolf searched the car thoroughly.

  ‘All clear, sir, ‘ he reported at length.

  Inspector Brighton was surprised. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Then I trust you won’t mind if Sergeant Wolf has a look in your handbags.’

  Wordlessly, they both proffered their bags. Sergeant Wolf looked through one and then the other.

  “Nothing here either, sir.’

  ‘Then we’ll all go back to the hall and have a little chat,’ Inspector Brighton said disgruntledly.

  Etta drove back to the house with the police car following. They probably thought that she would try to make a getaway otherwise. She longed to tell them that it was not very likely with a car of a top speed of 50 mph but then she realised that their car was probably the same. The policeman opened the gates, scowling. She had no doubt that he had received a telling off from the inspector and felt guilty. She parked the car back in the garage. The police car stopped outside. By the time, she and Jen had clambered down from the car; Inspector Brighton and Sergeant Wolf were next to it.

  ‘Lets go to the Study and discuss further why you felt the need to go for a drive,’ he said.

  Etta and Jen obediently trooped after him. She could see the chauffeur staring after them as they walked out.

  They made their way to the study. Inspector Brighton opened the door.

  ‘Just Miss Ashcroft to begin with, I think. Miss, what is your name?’

  ‘James.’

  ‘Miss James, Sergeant Wolf will escort you to your bedroom where you will remain until I summon you, is that understood?’

  Jen nodded her head and Sergeant Wolf escorted her away.

  Etta entered the room with her heart beating very fast.

  ‘Sit down,’ barked Inspector Brighton.

  Previously, Etta had thought him quite good looking. She didn’t anymore with him looking so grim. She sat down on the chair. Inspector Brighton sat down on the other side of the desk.

  ‘We’ll wait until Sergeant Wolf returns before I ask you any questions.’

  They sat in silence until Sergeant Wolf had entered the room, sat down beside Inspector Brighton and taken out his notebook and pen.

  ‘I would like an explanation of your actions this morning, Miss Ashcroft, if you please.’

  Act stupid, whispered a little voice to Etta.

  ‘I just fancied going for a spin in my car, that’s all.’

  ‘Despite my express prohibition.’

  ‘But we thought that was lifted now,’ Etta explained. She thought about it. ‘And inspector, if we were leaving, wouldn’t we have said goodbye to everyone?’

  ‘Not if you were trying to make a quick getaway, you wouldn’t.’

  ‘If we were running away, wouldn’t we have taken our clothes with us?’

  She could see from the inspector’s face that it was a good point. She continued, ‘we would have.’

  He switched the topic of conversation. ‘I’d like to check some information about you. 'You are Hetty Ashcroft. Is the Hetty short for Henriettta?'

  'Yes.'

  ‘So your full name is Henrietta Ashcroft.’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  'And you're here on a visit?'

  'Yes.'

  'As the guest of?'

  'Dotty, I mean Dorothy Mowbray.'

  'Is she an old friend of yours?'

  'Oh no, I only met her a few months ago.'

  'Where did you meet her?'

  'Some party or other.'

  'You can't remember exactly?' Inspector Brighton looked directly at her. Sergeant Wolf had stopped writing and his pen was poised above the notebook.

  'No, not really.'

  Etta remembered reading somewhere that if you were trying to cover something up, you should try to stick as close to the truth as possible. Also, that attack is the best form of defence. She looked straight back at him.

  'Is it important?' she asked.

  'No, not really,' he said. Because he can check with Dotty, she thought. She felt a thrill of pride that she hadn't fallen into the trap of making something up.

  'Could you tell me your address please, just for the record.'

  Play for time while I think of something, she thought. She picked up her handbag and looked inside. She found a wad of small cards inside, picked them up and looked at them. To her astonished relief, they had her name and address on them. She took one out and handed it to Sergeant Wolf.

  'To save you having to write it down,' she explained. She was so proud of herself.

  'Thank you, miss,’ he said.

  ‘Have you lived at this address long?’

  ‘No, not long. I’ve come into some money, you see.’

  The minute Etta said that, she regretted it. Inspector Brighton was bound to pick up on it. But to her surprise, he didn’t.

  ‘Did you know any of the other guests before you came here?’ the inspector asked.

  ‘No.’

  'So, you didn’t know either Mr or Mrs Spinoza before you came here?'

  'No. But Mrs. Spinoza is, I'm sorry was, a film star so I'd seen her, so to speak before.'

  'Now, could you go through your movements on the night of the murder, please?'

  'Let me think. We had dinner. Did you want to know about before dinner?’

  ‘I think dinner onwards would do for now,’ the inspector said.

  ‘And then after dinner, there was some dancing. Mrs. Spinoza was wearing Lady Mowbray's diamond necklace and I remember thinking how beautiful she looked in it.'

  ‘Why was Mrs. Spinoza wearing Lady Mowbray’s necklace?’

  ‘Mrs. Spinoza asked her and Lady Mowbray said yes. Oh you mean why did Lady Mowbray agree to her wearing it? I don’t know. You’d have to ask her.’

  Oh dear, that had sounded rather aggressive, Etta thought.

  ‘Did you dance?’

  ‘No, I’d slightly sprained my ankle playing tennis that afternoon so I just sat and watched.’

  ‘Can you remember who danced with Mrs. Spinoza?’

  ‘I’m not sure, I’ve got a terrible memory.’ Get that in quick, she thought. Establish that my character is scatty.

  ‘Please try,’ the inspector said.
r />   ‘Mr. Spinoza, of course, well, he is her husband. And then, did Sir James dance with her?

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I think Dennis did and maybe Stewart Grenadier. I know that Cecil didn’t.’

  ‘That would be Cecil Mowbray, the second son of Sir James and Lady Mowbray?’ the inspector asked, consulting his notes.

  ‘That’s right. Cecil doesn’t like dancing although even if he did, I don’t suppose he would have asked Mrs. Spinoza to dance.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘He was very scathing about her as a film actress when we had a walk in the grounds earlier.’

  The inspector and the sergeant both looked up at this and Etta realised that she might have made an incriminating remark about Cecil. This troubled her. She didn’t like Cecil but she didn’t think he was a murderer.

  ‘So Cecil didn’t like Evangeline Spinoza,’ the inspector said slowly.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t say that. I don’t know about that. He wasn’t very impressed with her films, that’s all.’

  The inspector nodded. ‘What happened after the dancing?’ he enquired.

  ‘I went to bed quite early so I’m not really sure who stayed up after me.’

  ‘Did you go straight to bed?’

  ‘Yes. You can ask my maid what time I got there. She was waiting up for me.’

  ‘And after going to bed, did you stay in your bedroom all night?’

  Etta looked at him. She knew what he was getting at but she didn’t think that the character of Hetty Ashcroft would.

  ‘To go to the bathroom, you mean?’ she asked innocently.

  To her pleasure, the inspector blushed slightly and the sergeant looked uncomfortable.

  ‘To the bathroom or,’ the inspector hesitated, ‘any where else?’

  ‘Where else would I go apart from the bathroom, inspector?’

  Perhaps she was laying it on a bit too thick. The inspector lost his blush.

  ‘So, you were in your bedroom all night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You didn’t hear anything strange during the night?’

  ‘No. I just heard Mrs. Spinoza’s maid scream in the morning.’

  ‘How do you know it was her maid?’ the inspector asked.

  ‘I didn’t know it was her. I just assumed it was.’

  Etta bet that made him happy, making her look stupid.

  ‘Well, I think that’s all for now, Miss Ashcroft.’

  Etta bounced up and got as far as putting her hand on the doorknob when the inspector asked, ‘by the way, what was your previous address?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Where did you live previously to your London address?’

  Etta stared at him; her mind had gone a blank. She wasn’t prepared for the question.

  ‘I can’t remember,’ she said weakly.

  ‘You can’t remember?’

  Inspector Brighton and Sergeant Wolf both looked at her, open-mouthed. This was bad. She should know the address.

  ‘I mean, I can’t remember the number, I’m terrible with numbers.’

  ‘If you could just tell me the road and the area.’

  ‘Reading.’

  ‘Which road in Reading?’

  Dare she use her own road? Did it even exist?

  ‘Wembley Road.’

  The sergeant made a great show of writing it down.

  ‘And while I remember, how long has your maid been with you?’ the inspector asked casually.

  ‘Oh only a few months, I couldn’t afford a personal maid before that. May I go now?’

  ‘You may go, Miss Ashcroft. As I said before and to make it absolutely clear, you are not permitted to leave the premises or the grounds until I say so. Is that understood?’

  ‘Okey dokey,’ said Etta and fled.

  Jen took off her coat and hat once Sergeant Wolf left. She sat on her bed, clutching her handbag and wondering what Inspector Brighton was asking Etta. She worried that Etta would be so nervous that she might have a panic attack. Did people in the thirties know how to treat panic attacks? Then she remembered that they were in some dream world. If they were in a dream world of their making, they should be able to deal with panic attacks, she reasoned.

  It seemed to her that she sat there for a very long time before there was a knock at the door and Sergeant Wolf entered. He was a large man and he made her attic bedroom seem even smaller than ever

  ‘Inspector Brighton would like to interview you now,’ he said.

  Jen followed him out of the room, along the corridor and down the long flights of the back stairs. He didn’t seem to find it as much as an effort as her, at least he wasn’t puffing like her by the end of them. He showed her into the Study and motioned for her to sit on the other side of the desk.

  ‘Could you give me your full name, please?’ the inspector asked.

  ‘Jane James, Miss Jane James.’

  ‘Now, Miss James, could you tell us in your own words why you and your mistress went off driving today? What was the reason?’

  ‘Like we said, we wanted to do some shopping and to get some fresh air.’

  ‘You had some urgent shopping to do?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘What was it that was so urgent?’

  He was checking up, Jen realised. He’d have spoken to the policeman at the gate. He wanted to see if she told the same story.

  ‘I don’t really like to say, inspector,’ she said, lowering her eyes and looking at the desk. She wished that she could blush at will. Then she had an inspiration. ‘Is the lady policewoman still here? I wouldn’t mind telling her.’

  ‘She’s no longer here,’ the inspector said.

  But her bluff worked, as he didn’t continue that line of enquiry.

  ‘How long have you worked for Miss Ashcroft?’

  ‘A long time. I knew her as a child.’

  ‘Indeed. Exactly how long?’

  ‘I’m not sure, fifteen, twenty?’

  ‘Moving on. Did you notice anything out of the ordinary on the night of the murder?’

  ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘What time did you go to bed?’

  ‘After I’d put my mistress to bed.’

  ‘And what time was that?’

  ‘Oh around half ten, eleven, I’d say. I didn’t check the time.’

  ‘And you stayed in your room all night?’

  ‘Yes, inspector. You can check with my room mate if you like, Lily the housemaid.’

  ‘We’ll do that. Now, do you know anything about this missing necklace?’

  ‘Not a thing.’

  The inspector stopped talking and looked at her. The silence continued for a while. He’s trying the silent treatment, well it won’t work, Jen thought. Eventually Inspector Brighton dismissed her with the words, ‘you’d better make sure you stay on the premises from now on and don’t forget, we’ll have our eyes on you.’

  Jen was tempted to make a smart reply, opened her mouth but then thought better of it and left quietly.