‘The viewing’s on,’ said Fletcher to her sergeant after Lucy had called back to say that as she had thought, Quondam did possess a copy of the film, although it had not gone through any kind of restoration process. ‘But I still want you to work through that list of the film clubs. If anyone’s recently hired the von Wolff Alraune, I want to know about it.’
Sergeant Trendle said there was nothing to report from the film clubs yet, and asked why they needed to view the film.
‘I want to see exactly how closely our man did copy this famous final scene,’ said Fletcher. ‘If it looks as though he knows the film in real detail, that might give us a lead – there can’t be all that many people who’ve seen the thing; not these days. And you’ve got the list of satellite TV companies as well, haven’t you? Lucy Trent said one of them put it out a few years ago. If it was eight or ten years back, it probably isn’t relevant, but if it was only a couple of years, we might have to start getting lists of satellite TV subscribers. Yes, I know it’s tedious, but think of it as an armchair version of door-to-door inquiries.’ She frowned, and then said, ‘I think we’ll fix this viewing for Saturday afternoon if Quondam will agree.’
Trendle, who viewed the prospect of Alraune with dismay (it had been made before sound even, could you credit it!), asked who was to be at the viewing. Just their own people, was it?
‘No,’ said Jennie. ‘I want to watch one or two reactions while it’s being played. Lucy Trent will have to be there, of course. Partly courtesy, because she works at Quondam, but I’m not forgetting she’s Lucretia von Wolff’s granddaughter. She knows the film, as well – she saw it when she was at university.’
‘We aren’t suspecting her, though, are we?’
‘We’re suspecting everybody at this stage. But I don’t really think she’s a contender. But listen now, the ones I do want to be there – and don’t make any mistakes or hand me any excuses, sergeant – are those three who found Trixie Smith’s body. Francesca Holland, Michael Sallis, and that insolent Irishman.’
‘The solicitor?’
‘The solicitor,’ said Jennie Fletcher. ‘He’s an irreverent devil, although I’d have to say he’s an efficient irreverent devil. As a matter of fact he’s got rather a good reputation when it comes to criminal law – the ACC thinks very highly of him – and he’s a tiger in the magistrates’ court, I’ve seen him in action. That’s the silver-tongued Irish, of course.’
Sergeant Trendle, who had been checking the list of Ashwood’s previous owners, said it looked as if Liam Devlin had given them genuine information about the land.
‘It’s mostly been owned by small-time entrepreneurs, who thought they were getting a bargain, and then couldn’t get rid of the place quickly enough when they realized it wasn’t a bargain at all.’
‘Which is what we thought. I think Devlin’s all right, but we’ll still have him in for this film experiment, although we’d better have a pinch of salt with us when we’re talking to him. Do you ever read Shakespeare, Trendle?’
Trendle, who liked a bit of a laugh on his days off, said he did not.
‘There’s a line in one of the plays – “First thing we’ll do, let’s kill all the laywers,”’ said the inspector. ‘Remember that. Always watch a lawyer, Trendle.’
Sergeant Trendle, who could not cope with the inspector when she was in this mood, suggested that if they were speaking of lawyers, what about the other one?
‘Edmund Fane?’ said Fletcher, softly. ‘Oh, yes, I want him there as well.’
‘You don’t like him?’
‘I don’t trust him, Trendle. So I don’t care if you have to invoke Magna Carta or the European Human Rights Law, just make sure he’s there.’