Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [41]
I shivered and decided to make my way down.
As I gained the bottom of the stairs I discovered Sergeant Baker standing foursquare and rocklike in the centre of the hall. ‘Just sent the maid and the butler on their way, sir,’ he said catching sight of me. ‘No help there: they don’t know a thing.’
‘Ah – I wanted to talk to Simpson. I thought we might –’
‘Anticipating your instructions, I persuaded Mr Simpson to prepare rooms for us here for the night, sir.’
‘Oh. Well done, Baker.’
‘And I took the liberty of questioning Mr Kreiner as well, sir.’
I sighed. ‘That’s all right, Sergeant. It saves me the trouble. Did he have anything interesting to say?’
‘No, sir. Nothing except the accent in which he said some of it, which is as fake as a three-shilling note.’
I felt as if I was just running around distracting attention while Baker calmly and methodically plodded through the case. Nonetheless, I felt a certain pride as I told him of my discoveries. To his credit, Baker did not claim prior knowledge of Harries’s drug habit or pretend that he had guessed about the murder. He merely nodded and said, ‘Well, that is interesting.’ And the sincerity with which he said it was better than any ironic praise.
‘Indeed,’ I acknowledged cryptically, and began to move across the hall towards the study door. Over my shoulder I said, ‘Could you find Mr Hopkinson and ask him to step this way, Sergeant?’
Baker moved off, and I entered the study.
Less than a minute later I heard two sets of footsteps crossing the hall towards me. I let a few seconds elapse after I heard them stop, then I turned to face John Hopkinson.
‘You wanted to see me, Inspector,’ he said beating both Baker and me to the first words. He advanced across the room towards me, leaving the Sergeant to close the door. I used the time to fill in the details on the rough mental sketch I had of him.
He was as tall and as thin as I remembered, moving with restraint and precision. He now wore a pair of half-rimmed glasses through which he studied me with a curious and, I felt, faintly disappointed air. It was as if he had already decided how a Scotland Yard inspector should act, and I wasn’t living up to his expectations. A faint glow of anger flared inside me: what right had he to expect me to play his games? Even as part of me realised how ridiculous I was being, I decided to dislike John Hopkinson.
‘Yes, Mr Hopkinson,’ I said, ‘there are a few points I should like to clear up about the accident.’
‘Accident, Inspector?’ The light from the lamps reflected in his lenses, making walls of his eyes.
‘You don’t think so?’
He smiled briefly and sat down. ‘I don’t think you would be going to all this trouble if you did, Inspector.’
‘Very astute of you,’ I said. ‘What do you think happened?’ I moved back to sit on Wallace’s desk, supporting myself with my hands.
‘Harries wasn’t a very well liked character, I’m afraid. When he died it was a bit too fortuitous for my liking.’
‘If he was murdered, aren’t you rather throwing suspicion on to yourself?’
Hopkinson smiled. ‘All gifts have to be paid for, Inspector. If my suspicion is the price for Harries’s death then I pay it willingly. After all, I have the best possible defence.’
Baker, silent beside the door, came suddenly to life. ‘And what might that be, sir?’
‘Innocence, Sergeant,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t do it.’
‘Can you tell us who did do it, Mr Hopkinson?’ I said with as much calm as I could muster, cursing as I suddenly realised that Hopkinson had manoeuvred us into tacitly admitting that Harries had been murdered.
For the first time some animation appeared in his face. ‘No, Inspector, I couldn’t. I would like to, believe me, but I couldn’t.’
Remembering Wallace’s opinion of Richard Harries, I altered tack slightly. ‘You say that Professor Harries was not a particularly pleasant person. Does anyone else in this house share your opinion of him?’
‘I couldn’t really tell you that either, I’m afraid,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think George Wallace liked him – in fact, I don’t know why he let the man stay in the