‘Yes. During the summer it’s usually wide open. This time of the year it’s shut but not locked. We all go out and in a good deal that way. I locked it when I came in.’
‘Do you always do that?’
‘I’ve been doing it for the last week. You see, it gets dark at six. Miss Blacklocks goes out to shut up the ducks and the hens sometimes in the evening, but she very often goes out through the kitchen door.’
‘And you are quite sure you did lock the side door this time?’
‘I really am quite sure about that.’
‘Quite so, Mrs Haymes. And what did you do when you came in?’
‘Kicked off my muddy footwear and went upstairs and had a bath and changed. Then I came down and found that a kind of party was in progress. I hadn’t known anything about this funny advertisement until then.’
‘Now please describe just what occurred when the hold-up happened.’
‘Well, the lights went out suddenly—’
‘Where were you?’
‘By the mantelpiece. I was searching for my lighter which I thought I had put down there. The lights went out—and everybody giggled. Then the door was flung open and this man shone a torch on us and flourished a revolver and told us to put our hands up.’
‘Which you proceeded to do?’
‘Well, I didn’t actually. I thought it was just fun, and I was tired and I didn’t think I needed really to put them up.’
‘In fact, you were bored by the whole thing?’
‘I was, rather. And then the revolver went off. The shots sounded deafening and I was really frightened. The torch went whirling round and dropped and went out, and then Mitzi started screaming. It was just like a pig being killed.’
‘Did you find the torch very dazzling?’
‘No, not particularly. It was quite a strong one, though. It lit up Miss Bunner for a moment and she looked quite like a turnip ghost—you know, all white and staring with her mouth open and her eyes starting out of her head.’
‘The man moved the torch?’
‘Oh, yes, he played it all round the room.’
‘As though he were looking for someone?’
‘Not particularly, I should say.’
‘And after that, Mrs Haymes?’
Phillipa Haymes frowned.
‘Oh, it was all a terrible muddle and confusion. Edmund Swettenham and Patrick Simmons switched on their lighters and they went out into the hall and we followed, and someone opened the dining-room door—the lights hadn’t fused there—and Edmund Swettenham gave Mitzi a terrific slap on the cheek and brought her out of her screaming fit, and after that it wasn’t so bad.’
‘You saw the body of the dead man?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was he known to you? Had you ever seen him before?’
‘Never.’
‘Have you any opinion as to whether his death was accidental, or do you think he shot himself deliberately?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea.’
‘You didn’t see him when he came to the house previously?’
‘No. I believe it was in the middle of the morning and I shouldn’t have been there. I’m out all day.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Haymes. One thing more. You haven’t any valuable jewellery? Rings, bracelets, anything of that kind?’
Phillipa shook her head.
‘My engagement ring—a couple of brooches.’
‘And as far as you know, there was nothing of particular value in the house?’
‘No. I mean there is some quite nice silver—but nothing out of the ordinary.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Haymes.’
II
As Craddock retraced his steps through the kitchen garden he came face to face with a large red-faced lady, carefully corseted.
‘Good morning,’ she said belligerently. ‘What do you want here?’
‘Mrs Lucas? I am Detective-Inspector Craddock.’
‘Oh, that’s who you are? I beg your pardon. I don’t like strangers forcing their way into my garden wasting the gardeners’ time. But I quite understand you have to do your duty.’
‘Quite so.’
‘May I ask if we are to expect a repetition of that outrage last night at Miss Blacklock’s? Is it a gang?’
‘We are satisfied, Mrs Lucas, that it was not the work of a gang.’
‘There are far too many robberies nowadays. The police are getting slack.’ Craddock did not reply. ‘I suppose you’ve been talking to Phillipa Haymes?’