‘I wanted her account as an eye-witness.’
‘You couldn’t have waited until one o’clock, I suppose? After all, it would be fairer to question her in her time, rather than in mine…’
‘I’m anxious to get back to headquarters.’
‘Not that one expects consideration nowadays. Or a decent day’s work. On duty late, half an hour’s pottering. A break for elevenses at ten o’clock. No work done at all the moment the rain starts. When you want the lawn mown there’s always something wrong with the mower. And off duty five or ten minutes before the proper time.’
‘I understood from Mrs Haymes that she left here at twenty minutes past five yesterday instead of five o’clock.’
‘Oh, I dare say she did. Give her her due, Mrs Haymes is quite keen on her work, though there have been days when I have come out here and not been able to find her anywhere. She is a lady by birth, of course, and one feels it’s one’s duty to do something for these poor young war widows. Not that it isn’t very inconvenient. Those long school holidays and the arrangement is that she has extra time off then. I told her that there are really excellent camps nowadays where children can be sent and where they have a delightful time and enjoy it far more than wandering about with their parents. They need practically not come home at all in the summer holidays.’
‘But Mrs Haymes didn’t take kindly to that idea?’
‘She’s as obstinate as a mule, that girl. Just the time of year when I want the tennis court mowed and marked nearly every day. Old Ashe gets the lines crooked. But my convenience is never considered!’
‘I presume Mrs Haymes takes a smaller salary than is usual?’
‘Naturally. What else could she expect?’
‘Nothing, I’m sure,’ said Craddock. ‘Good morning, Mrs Lucas.’
III
‘It was dreadful,’ said Mrs Swettenham happily. ‘Quite—quite—dreadful, and what I say is that they ought to be far more careful what advertisements they accept at the Gazette office. At the time, when I read it, I thought it was very odd. I said so, didn’t I, Edmund?’
‘Do you remember just what you were doing when the lights went out, Mrs Swettenham?’ asked the Inspector.
‘How that reminds me of my old Nannie! Where was Moses when the light went out? The answer, of course, was “In the Dark.” Just like us yesterday evening. All standing about and wondering what was going to happen. And then, you know, the thrill when it suddenly went pitch black. And the door opening—just a dim figure standing there with a revolver and that blinding light and a menacing voice saying “Your money or your life!” Oh, I’ve never enjoyed anything so much. And then a minute later, of course, it was all dreadful. Real bullets, just whistling past our ears! It must have been just like the Commandos in the war.’
‘Whereabouts were you standing or sitting at the time, Mrs Swettenham?’
‘Now let me see, where was I? Who was I talking to, Edmund?’
‘I really haven’t the least idea, Mother.’
‘Was it Miss Hinchcliffe I was asking about giving the hens cod liver oil in the cold weather? Or was it Mrs Harmon—no, she’d only just arrived. I think I was just saying to Colonel Easterbrook that I thought it was really very dangerous to have an atom research station in England. It ought to be on some lonely island in case the radio activity gets loose.’
‘You don’t remember if you were sitting or standing?’
‘Does it really matter, Inspector? I was somewhere over by the window or near the mantelpiece, because I know I was quite near the clock when it struck. Such a thrilling moment! Waiting to see if anything might be going to happen.’
‘You describe the light from the torch as blinding. Was it turned full on to you?’
‘It was right in my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing.’
‘Did the man hold it still, or did he move it about, from person to person?’
‘Oh, I don’t really know. Which did he do, Edmund?’
‘It moved rather slowly over us all, so as to see what we were all doing, I suppose, in case we should try and rush him.’