“I shouldn't be surprised,” said Giles. “One other question: Does Kenneth know you're here?”

“No, as a matter of fact, he doesn't. He was out when I got Arnold's letter. But you know what he is: I daresay he hasn't even noticed that I'm not at home. If he has, he'll merely suppose I told him I was going away for the night and he forgot.”

“I wasn't worrying about that. Did anyone know you were coming here?”

“Well, I didn't say anything to anyone,” replied Antonia helpfully. She regarded him with a certain amount of anxiety. “Do you suppose they'll think I did it?”

“I hope not. The fact that you spent the night at the cottage ought to tell in your favour. But you must stop fooling about, Tony. The police want you to account for your movements last night. We must trust that they won't inquire too closely into the letter Arnold wrote you. Otherwise you've nothing to conceal, and you must tell them the truth, and answer any questions they put to you.”

“How do you know I've nothing to conceal?” inquired Antonia, eyeing him wickedly. “I wouldn't have minded murdering Arnold last night.”

“I assume you have nothing to conceal,” Giles said a little sharply.

She smiled. “Nice Giles. Do you loathe being dragged into our murky affairs?”

“I can think of things I like better. You'd better come along to the Chief Constable's office and apologise for being such a nuisance.”

“And answer a lot of questions?” she asked doubtfully. “Yes, answer anything you can, but try not to say a lot of unnecessary things.”

She looked rather nervous. “Well, you'd better frown at me if I do. I wish you could make a statement for me.”