“Do you mean I've got to hang about in a Police Station all day?” demanded Antonia. “I'm damned if I will! I've got a luncheon engagement in town at one o'clock.”

“Well, miss,” said the Inspector placably, “I've no wish to force you into making a statement if you don't want to, but if you'd only see sense and act reasonably, I daresay the Chief Constable wouldn't see any need to detain you.”

“Have you got a warrant for my arrest?” Antonia shot at him.

“No, miss, I have not.”

“Then you can't stop me going back to Town.”

The Inspector showed signs of beginning to lose his temper. “If you go on like this much longer, miss, you'll soon see whether I can take you up to the Police Station or not!”

Antonia lifted an eyebrow, and glanced towards the “Would you like to bet on it?” she inquired.

“Come along, miss, don't be silly!” said the Inspector.

“Oh, well!” said Antonia. “After all, I do want to know who did kill Arnold. I've often said I'd like to, but I never did, somehow. Do you mind if I put on my skirt, or would you like me just as I am?”

The Inspector said he would prefer her to put on her skirt. “All right. But you'll have to clear out while I do. And while you're waiting one of you might look out Mr Giles Carrington's number in the telephone book, and get on to him for me, and tell him he's got to come down here at once, because I'm being charged with murder.”

“Nobody's charging you with anything of the sort, miss, I keep on telling you!”

“Well, you will be soon,” said Antonia, with the utmost cheerfulness.

Chapter Three

Mrs Beaton, when interviewed, proved a disappointing witness. Constable Dickenson had warned the Inspector that she was not one to talk, but the Inspector soon formed the opinion that her reticence had its root in a profound ignorance of her employer's affairs.