‘Oh no,’ said Oliver politely, and Godfrey glanced at him uneasily.
‘I don’t care who sleeps in whose bed,’ said the inspector, ‘but I do care about finding Miss Weston. We’ve tried her phone, but it’s switched off–although that might not mean anything. Her car’s gone and, as Dr Saxon says, the cottage is in darkness.’ He frowned. ‘Normally we wouldn’t concern ourselves with a lady who ducked out of a dinner date, but given the circumstances we’d better search the cottage. Have any of you got a key.’
‘No,’ said Godfrey.
‘Your sergeant asked that when Miss Weston reported that business of the rope,’ said Oliver. ‘We didn’t have one then, and we haven’t got one now.’
‘Dr Saxon?’
‘No, I haven’t got a key. Dr Weston isn’t, so far as I know, in the habit of giving people her door key. But if you’re going into the cottage, I’ll come with you.’
‘So will I,’ said Oliver at once.
‘I’d like to have someone from the Quire Trust anyway,’ said Curran equably. ‘We’ll do it now, shall we? Best not to waste any time.’
‘Then you do think something’s happened to her?’
‘I’m reserving judgement, Professor Remus. But we’ve had a violent death here and we don’t know who’s responsible for it. We’re putting out calls to the nearby railway stations–Chester’s the main one, of course–but if Miss Weston’s gone anywhere of her own free will, she’s gone in her own car. And on that basis, we’ve also notified motorway service stations.’
‘You’ve got the car’s registration, have you?’ This was Oliver.
‘Oh yes,’ said the inspector. ‘We’ve had that all along. It’ll be quicker if we drive to the cottage, I think, and my car’s just outside. Dr Toy, will you stay here?’
Godfrey, appalled at the thought of remaining in the house on his own, said, ‘Well, I thought—’
‘It’s mostly in case Miss Weston turns up here. Or telephones.’
‘Yes, of course I’ll stay,’ said Godfrey, and sat down to plan how they would welcome Antonia back when she was found. Because of course she would be found, perfectly safe and well. Anything else was too dreadful to contemplate.
Inspector Curran broke the kitchen window of the cottage, and Jonathan climbed through and unlatched the rear door. But the cottage yielded no clues at all. There were no signs of a struggle, and no notes left.
‘Would either of you know if any of her clothes have gone?’ said Inspector Curran, surveying the wardrobe in the bedroom.
‘I wouldn’t. I remember she was wearing that jacket when I happened to meet her in the library a few days ago,’ said Oliver. ‘But other than that, I can’t help.’
‘Dr Saxon?’
‘I can’t help either.’
‘Her phone doesn’t seem to be around, which is a nuisance,’ said Curran. ‘I’ll get Blackburn to make a proper search, though, and we’ll get on to the main cell-phone networks and try to find out what calls she made or received in the last twenty-four hours. That might give us something to work on. Oh, and there’s a laptop downstairs–did she have an email account?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Jonathan.
‘I’ll switch on in a minute and take a look.’
‘Isn’t that a bit of an invasion?’
‘Professor, if Miss Weston has been carted off by this killer, nothing’s an invasion. And if she’s the killer herself, it’s not an invasion, it’s necessary evidence.’
There was a brief silence, and then Oliver said, ‘You don’t really think she’s the killer, though?’
‘He might do,’ said Jonathan. ‘He’s probably thinking that she’s killed once, and–how old did you say that boy was last night?’
‘Nineteen or twenty.’
‘Don Robards was twenty-two,’ said Jonathan. ‘On that basis, I should think Antonia’s your prime suspect for this, isn’t she, inspector?’