‘Were you and Mr Holloway friends?’ asked Lady Hardcastle.
‘Friends, my lady?’ said Mr Richman. ‘We got on well, if that’s what you mean. He’d been with the band a few years and we’re a small group. It wouldn’t work if we didn’t get on.’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘But what I meant was were you close friends, or just colleagues?’
‘I’d say we were friends, yes.’
‘And did you have anything to do with one another outside your work?’ she persisted.
‘What do you mean?’ said Mr Richman. ‘We had a drink now and again, maybe met for a meal or two. But we work quite a lot, Lady Hardcastle, we spent a lot of time together.’
‘You had no other interests outside your work, then? No shared business interests?’
‘I’m sure I have no idea what you’re on about,’ he said, blankly. ‘What manner of business do you imagine we’d have time for?’
Lady Hardcastle smiled. ‘Forgive me, Mr Richman, my mind wanders sometimes. I was just trying to find out a little more about Mr Holloway.’
‘Oh, I see,’ he said. ‘He was a thoroughly decent chap, that’s all you really need to know. An excellent musician, a good friend, and a proper gentle man. Not a gentleman as you’d know them, my lady, he came from the same backstreets as the rest of us, but he was a proper gentle man. I shall miss him.’
‘Of course, Mr Richman. Forgive me for intruding on your grief.’
He nodded sadly.
‘I’ve been asking everyone to remain at the house until this matter is resolved, sir,’ said the inspector, wrapping up the interview. ‘I trust that won’t be an inconvenience.’
Mr Richman took a look round the library. ‘The place could do with decorating,’ he said, ‘But I suppose I could slum it for a while.’
‘Thank you for your patience, sir. I’ll send for you if I think of anything else I need to ask.’
Mr Richman stood. ‘Thank you, inspector.’ He left quietly.
‘Do you have something on your mind, my lady?’ asked the inspector.
‘Just probing, Inspector. I was trying to find out if he and Holloway were up to anything else. Something illicit, perhaps. Did I spoil things for you?’
‘Probably not, my lady,’ he said, kindly. ‘It’s not the way I should have chosen to play it, but it was illuminating to see him so rattled when you asked him. Perhaps they were up to something after all.’ He consulted his notebook. ‘Let me see now… whom shall we see next? Ah, yes, Mr Clifford Haddock. Let’s see what happens when we get him on the hook.’
‘It’s certainly the plaice for it,’ I said.
‘Cod we just get on with it,’ said Lady Hardcastle, wearily.
‘I… er… oh, oh, I shall salmon him at once.’ I left in a hurry.
I found Mr Haddock with Sir Hector in the corridor outside the library, keenly examining what I thought was a rather revolting clock which sat atop an ornate Chinese cabinet.
‘Ah, now then, Sir Hector,’ the dealer was saying, ‘this is a lovely piece. To be honest I’d only give you a few bob for the cabinet – reproduction, you see – but this clock is a very handsome piece indeed. Eighteenth century French. I’m sure I could find you a buyer for this one, yes indeed.’
Sir Hector noticed my approach and rolled his eyes at the dealer’s continuing prattle. He seized the opportunity to interrupt. ‘Yes, m’dear? Is there something we can do for you?’
‘Sorry to interrupt, Sir Hector,’ I said deferentially. ‘But Inspector Sunderland would like a word with Mr Haddock.’
‘Good lord,’ said Haddock. ‘My turn for the Spanish Inquisition, eh?’
‘In the dining room, please, sir,’ I said.
‘Well, I’d better not keep the Old Bill waiting, eh?’ he said. ‘This way?’
‘Yes, sir, I’ll take you.’
He set off in the direction I had come from and I turned to follow, but Sir Hector grabbed my elbow.
‘Something fishy about that chap,’ he said. ‘Oh, I say. “Fishy”. Well done, Hector. You heard what he was saying about m’whatnots? Totally the wrong way round. The cabinet’s the genuine article – picked it up in Shanghai in ’92 – and the clock’s a cheap imitation made by a chap from Bournemouth. Either he hasn’t got a clue or he’s trying to cheat a chap, what?’
‘I wouldn’t rule either one out at this stage, Sir Hector,’ I said.
‘The old detective’s nose twitching, what?’
‘Something like that, sir. That and the fact that he’s an oily little tick.’
He laughed a delighted laugh. ‘Nail on the head, m’dear. Oily tick indeed. You’d better catch him up before he pilfers anything, what?’ He laughed again and waved me on my way.
I hurried along the corridor and caught up with Haddock just as he was passing the dining room door.
‘This way, sir,’ I said, opening the door for him. He doubled back and entered the room.
‘Ah, Mr Haddock, I presume,’ said the inspector as I closed the door behind me. ‘I’m Inspector Sunderland and this is Lady Hardcastle.’
‘Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,’ said Haddock. ‘And a pleasure to meet you again, Lady Hardcastle. We had all too brief a time together last evening. I should have liked to have got more acquainted. Sir Hector tells me you’re a widow. It’s a shame for such a beautiful lady to be all alone.’
Lady Hardcastle simply nodded a greeting but made no further response.
‘Take a seat, please, Mr Haddock,’ said the inspector.
He did as he was asked.
‘Well, then, Inspector,’ he said. ‘How can I help you.’
‘I’m sure you’re more than well aware of what happened here last evening,’ said the inspector. ‘So I shan’t bore you by restating the details. As you can no doubt imagine, we’re anxious to try to build a picture of the events surrounding Mr Holloway’s death. I gather you’re a guest of Sir Hector?’
‘Yes,’ he said, with a smarmy smile. ‘He invited me down to appraise some of his objets d’art. I believe he’s looking to sell a few pieces.’
‘And since you were here anyway, you were invited to the engagement party.’
‘Yes, that is correct.’
‘How did you come to be first introduced to Sir Hector?’
‘Through a mutual acquaintance.’
‘Who might that be, if you don’t mind my asking?’
‘Mr Roland Richman.’
‘So you know Mr Richman?’
‘Yes,’ said Haddock. ‘We bump into each other from time to time in London. I’m quite a devotee of this new American music so we frequent some of the same nightclubs.’
‘I see, sir, I see. And were you at the party all evening?’
‘I was, Inspector, yes.’
‘Mr Holloway was last seen alive when he left the stage during the band’s break at around ten o’clock. Did you see him leave the ballroom?’
‘Not as such. They finished “The Richman Rag” and then they all got down from that little dais they were playing on. I went to have a word with them all to tell them how well they were playing but he wasn’t there. I suppose he must have left the room before I could get to them.’
‘I see, sir. Did you notice anyone else missing?’
‘It was a crowded party, Inspector. People were coming and going all the time.’