“Okay, if you don’t know, you don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I give you my word this is in confidence. You won’t be asked to make a public statement.”
“I don’t know,” she repeated woodenly.
He looked at her, and she looked at him, and he knew there was nothing more he would get out of her on that angle.
“Do you know Frances Coleman, Miss Powell? I believe she is an out-of-work extra?”
He saw surprise in her eyes.
“I know of her. She had a small part in Miss Arnot’s last picture.”
“Do you know why she called on Miss Arnot on the night Miss Arnot was murdered?”
“I didn’t know she had called on Miss Arnot.”
“Her name was in the Visitors’ book.”
She looked puzzled.