Towards Zero - Agatha Christie [52]
He leaned back to observe the effect of this.
Nevile Strange looked, quite plainly, bewildered.
“He hasn’t the least idea what we’re getting at, or else he’s a damned good actor,” Leach thought to himself. Aloud he said, as Nevile did not answer, “Well, Mr. Strange?”
Nevile said: “Of course, ask me anything you like.”
“You realize,” said Battle pleasantly, “that anything you say will be taken down in writing and may subsequently be used in a court of law in evidence.”
A flash of temper showed on Strange’s face. He said sharply:
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, no, Mr. Strange. Warning you.”
Nevile shrugged his shoulders.
“I suppose all this is part of your routine. Go ahead.”
“You are ready to make a statement?”
“If that’s what you call it.”
“Then will you tell us exactly what you did last night? From dinner onwards, shall we say?”
“Certainly. After dinner we went into the drawing room. We had coffee. We listened to the wireless—the news and so on. Then I decided to go across to Easterhead Bay Hotel and look up a chap who is staying there—a friend of mine.”
“That friend’s name is?”
“Latimer. Edward Latimer.”
“An intimate friend?”
“Oh, so-so. We’ve seen a good deal of him since he’s been down here. He’s been over to lunch and dinner and we’ve been over there.”
Battle said:
“Rather late, wasn’t it, to go off to Easterhead Bay?”
“Oh, it’s a gay spot—they keep it up till all hours.”
“But this is rather an early-to-bed household, isn’t it?”
“Yes, on the whole. However, I took the latchkey with me. Nobody had to sit up.”
“Your wife didn’t think of going with you?”
There was a slight change, a stiffening in Nevile’s tone as he said:
“No, she had a headache. She’d already gone up to bed.”
“Please go on, Mr. Strange.”
“I was just going up to change—”
Leach interrupted.
“Excuse me, Mr. Strange. Change into what? Into evening dress, or out of evening dress?”
“Neither. I was wearing a blue suit—my best, as it happened, and as it was raining a bit and I proposed to take the ferry and walk the other side—it’s about half a mile, as you know—I changed into an older suit—a grey pinstripe, if you want me to go into every detail.”
“We do like to get things clear,” said Leach humbly. “Please go on.”
“I was going upstairs, as I say, when Barrett came and told me Lady Tressilian wanted to see me, so I went along and had a jaw with her for a bit.”
Battle said gently:
“You were the last person to see her alive, I think, Mr. Strange?”
Nevile flushed.
“Yes—yes—I suppose I was. She was quite all right then.”
“How long were you with her?”
“About twenty minutes to half an hour, I should think, then I went to my room, changed my suit and hurried off. I took the latchkey with me.”
“What time was that?”
“About half past ten, I should think. I hurried down the hill, just caught the ferry starting and went across to the Easterhead side. I found Latimer at the Hotel, we had a drink or two and a game of billiards. The time passed so quickly that I found I’d lost the last ferry back. It goes at one thirty. So Latimer very decently got out his car and drove me back. That, as you know, means going all the way round by Saltington—sixteen miles. We left the Hotel at two o’clock and got back here somewhere around half past, I should say. I thanked Ted Latimer, asked him in for a drink, but he said he’d rather get straight back, so I let myself in and went straight up to bed. I didn’t see or hear anything amiss. The house seemed all asleep and peaceful. Then this morning I heard that girl screaming and—”
Leach stopped him.
“Quite, quite. Now to go back a little—to your conversation with Lady Tressilian—she was quite normal in her manner?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Oh, one thing and another.”
“Amicably?”
Nevile flushed.
“Certainly.”
“You didn’t, for instance,” went on Leach smoothly, “have a violent quarrel?