Free An Invisible Murder by Joyce Cato Page B

they may need to tell us. Nobody likes to speak ill of the dead, I know, but often the only clue to someone’s murder lies in the personality of the murder victim herself. You understand?’ Bishop asked, surprising Jenny considerably.
    She hadn’t thought that Bishop had so much finesse, let alone understanding. Subconsciously, she began to relax. Ava Simmons was in good hands.
    ‘Yes, Inspector. I shall do whatever I can to help, of course,’ Gayle said coolly. If Bishop had hoped to win her over, it was very apparent that he hadn’t succeeded.
    ‘Can you tell me where you were from three o’clock to half past three this afternoon, Gayle?’ Bishop asked briskly, cutting out the soft flannel now, since it was obviously wasted on her.
    ‘I was in her ladyship’s bedroom. I was getting her bath ready.’
    ‘For half an hour?’ Bishop asked, his scepticism rife.
    ‘The towels have to be heated, Inspector. Her ladyship’s change of clothes pressed. The soap, talc, bath salts and shampoo, all have to be retrieved, opened, and co-ordinated. Her ladyship’s rollers have to be heated…. really, Inspector, must I go into the
intimate
details of Lady Vee’s toilette?’
    Good for you, Jenny thought with a quickly suppressedgrin, seeing a dull red flush creep over Bishop’s thick, bullish neck. He hastily backtracked, hideously embarrassed.
    It was a perfect blind, and the cook knew it. Perhaps Gayle really
had
been doing all that she said she had. But if she hadn’t, she’d certainly made sure Bishop wouldn’t keep harping on about it.
    Jenny’s eyes narrowed on Gayle’s calm face. She really was a very competent girl. Very able. A very good liar, perhaps.
    ‘And you were alone?’ Bishop pressed, recovering his equilibrium somewhat.
    ‘No. Father was in the next room. His lordship’s dressing-room.’
    ‘Oh?’ Bishop turned to Meecham.
    ‘Yes, Inspector. After delivering the tea tray, I knew I would not be needed for a while. I had Lord Avonsleigh’s smoking jacket to sponge – he likes a cigar before dinner.’
    ‘You were concerned about his smoking jacket at three o’clock in the afternoon?’ Bishop asked, his voice dripping with open disbelief now.
    ‘I said it needed to be sponged, Inspector. As you know, velvet takes a long time to dry,’ Meecham responded, trying not to underline the inspector’s ignorance too much. It didn’t do to alienate the police.
    Bishop sighed deeply, obviously feeling out of place in this world of lords and ladies, smoking jackets and butlers. Jenny almost felt sorry for him.
    ‘I see. But either one of you could have left the room any time without the other seeing?’
    ‘We talked all the time,’ Gayle said quietly. ‘If one of us had failed to answer, well, we would only have to take a few steps to reach the next room. Father left just before three-thirty to take back the tea tray. I continued with the bath, until it was obvious that the guests were staying longer than predicted. Ithen left, and met my father in the hall a short while later. He told me about Miss Simmons.’
    ‘I see,’ Bishop said flatly. So father and daughter were alibiing each other. It was not totally unexpected, but it left him no further forward. It could all have been as they said. Maybe.
    Bishop turned reluctantly to the cook. ‘And you, Miss Starling? Where were you?’
    ‘I was here the whole time, Inspector, as I said before. First, preparing the tea tray, then, afterwards, the evening meal. Which reminds me….’ She got up to check that Elsie had peeled the potatoes.
    ‘And you never left the kitchen once?’ Bishop asked sharply. He could almost wish that
she
had done it. That would remove a thorn from many a policeman’s side.
    ‘No, I didn’t,’ Jenny said shortly, accurately reading his thoughts. Damned cheek!
    Bishop turned to the ferocious-looking kitchen maid with conspicuous courage. ‘And you are Miss Bingham?’ Bishop pulled her name from the depths of his