man who entered your garden. Then we’ll interview him and that may be the starting point that leads us to your husband.’ He leaned forward. ‘You’re booked in here for a week. This is where he expects you to be. Stay another day or two, Mrs Brent. It won’t be easy but it might help us to discover the truth. Will you do that?’
She nodded.
He smiled suddenly and she saw a softer side of him. His expression was warmer and his eyes had lost their hard glint.
‘Please understand that we will do everything we can and we always hope for a very rational ending, but we wouldn’t be doing our duty if we didn’t look on the dark side. If we delay, the leads dry up and we can’t solve the crime – if there is a crime.’ She nodded earnestly and he continued. ‘At present this Jem might be the man we need. He can tell us who gave him the envelope that seems to be somehow relevant to your husband’s disappearance. Trust us, Mrs Brent. We are on your side.’
He smiled and Maude felt herself relax marginally. She wanted to trust him and she longed to believe that Lionel would be returned to her. Her life – that is her real life – had somehow been snatched away from her and minutes later as she left the police station, she was clinging to the idea that DC Fleet would be the man to restore it to her.
Biddy sat up in bed at close to midnight with her diary open on her knees and a pencil in her hand. Earlier in the day Maude had phoned and had explained what was happening and why, at the moment, she felt unable to come home. Biddy and Alice had talked of nothing else all day but neither had been able to think of anything useful to add to the investigation. Now, forgetting her Ovaltine on the bedside table, Biddy wrote in her diary.
‘ Monday, June 12th. Our lives are turned upside down by the tragedy of Lionel’s disappearance. How can a grown man vanish leaving no trace? It’s impossible and yet it’s happened. Poor dear Maude. My heart aches for her. She is trying to be so brave and to keep up her hopes but I have this terrible feeling that things will get worse not better. I’ve tried praying but it seems to have gone unnoticed by Him.
Even Primmy is affected by the mystery and mopes about the house, not a bit like her usual excitable self. Poor little dog. She cannot possibly understand what is going on and we can’t explain it to her. All she knows is that Lionel and Maude are both gone.
I made a huge chocolate cake to cheer me and Alice up but we both ate too much and felt sick afterwards.
Last night we forgot the croquet set and left it on the lawn and it rained hard and it all got wet so we shall have to bring it into the kitchen to dry it off before Maude comes back.
I just keep hoping that in the morning Lionel will turn up and this will all have been a dreadful nightmare and we can go back to the way we were. Please God let it happen that way. If anything has happened to Lionel it will break Maude’s heart forever . . . ’
Biddy closed the book and slid it under the pillow. Discovering that her forgotten Ovaltine was now stone cold she uttered a word not suitable in decent company and slid down under the sheets.
FOUR
T he following morning, Tuesday, Penny and Meg arrived at the Romilees Hotel within minutes of each other and were soon together in the Bluebell Room, comparing notes about the event that was taking centre stage in everyone’s life. The local newspapers were full of the mystery and various people had been interviewed for their insights into the disappearance of one of the guests from the well-known hotel.
Meg was wide-eyed with excitement as Penny described what had happened when the police tried to talk to Jem.
‘They only knew where he lived because of me,’ she told her friend as they began to strip the bed. Penny was trying hard not to feel superior. ‘When they asked if any of us knew of anyone called Jem I told them about the chap next door to Tom because it could