Doctor Who_ The Banquo Legacy - Andy Lane [51]
Her eyes abruptly focused back on mine. ‘I’m so glad you’re here now. I feel much safer having met you. You seem so… so competent.’ One of her hands sought mine across the table and she gazed long and searchingly into my eyes. I was confused, I felt there was some message she was trying to get across to me but which I could not read.
‘I’ll just clear the dishes away, sir,’ said Simpson, entering the room. How much had he heard?
The spell was broken. And soon after Catherine Harries begged leave to see Sir George Wallace. I finished my cup of tea alone.
* * *
THE ACCOUNT OF JOHN HOPKINSON (7)
After such an uneasy night I resolved not to bother with breakfast, and afforded myself a lie-in. That decided, I slept through most of the morning until I was awakened by Beryl bringing me a cup of tea. She perched on the side of my bed as I drank it, then went to help Simpson prepare lunch while I washed and dressed.
As I had suspected, lunch was fairly bland, but having missed breakfast I was hungry enough not to care. Even Inspector Stratford seemed subdued and I guessed that his morning’s investigations had not thrown up anything of great interest.
‘So, what do you intend now?’ I asked him as he entered the drawing room. Everyone else seemed to have returned to their rooms after the meal. I was alone with Miss Seymour and Fitz Kreiner in the room when he joined us. He sat carefully in the armchair opposite the one I had chosen for myself. Miss Seymour seemed to notice neither of us, standing at the window staring out across the snow-covered lawn, though Fitz took a healthy and undisguised interest in our conversation.
‘Oh, just one or two little routine matters,’ Stratford replied easily. ‘Finish questioning everyone; a few more words with you, Mr Hopkinson.’
‘How nice,’ I murmured. (‘I’d like a few words, if I may…’ I could hear Stratford saying it – see him as he did so. But when? And where? The inspector continued before I could further speculate.)
‘And I shall of course need to examine the body properly.’
‘The Doctor can help you with that,’ Fitz said.
Stratford nodded. ‘Except that I haven’t seen him today. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you, Mr Kreiner?’
Fitz’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘You’re the policeman,’ he said. ‘You tell me.’ He turned to me now. ‘I told you I was worried about him. Yesterday – last night I told you.’
I nodded. ‘Indeed you did.’ I could not think of anything to add to that.
‘His bed’s not been slept in,’ Fitz went on. ‘I assume you know that. So why aren’t you looking for him?’
‘I’m sure we shall,’ the inspector said. I caught the double edge in his voice, though I think Fitz missed it.
Miss Seymour turned from her contemplation to face us, as if she had only now realised that we were there at all. ‘He never sleeps,’ she said quietly, addressing Fitz. ‘You know that.’
Stratford frowned, and looked at me. I shrugged.
‘I suppose you will wish to question me, Inspector,’ Susan continued. The light was behind her, but even in crisp silhouette I could tell that she was pale, and her voice was tired. Perhaps she too had slept badly. Probably we all had. Except Stratford.
‘Yes indeed, Miss Seymour,’ he told her, and I could see that he too had noticed her fatigue: ‘When you feel up to it.’
‘Why not now? I feel as up to it as I ever shall.’
‘You shouldn’t overdo things,’ Fitz told her, shaking his head. ‘Get some rest. Try to get some of your strength back while we look for…’ He paused, looked at us. ‘While we find out who’s behind all this,’ he said.
‘I would rather speak with you when you are quite composed, Miss Seymour,’ Stratford told her. Whether Stratford disagreed or whether his excuse was genuine I do not know. ‘I should like to see the body again first. Then I shall question you and Mrs Wallace. And Miss Harries,