‘And this is Inspector Chappel, late of Victoria Vice?’ Bacchus acknowledged with a raised eyebrow.
‘Sir. Confirm nothing untoward known on this establishment. I personally watched the place for an hour or two,’ said Chappel. ‘Lady guests coming and going. Some dropped off by Daddy and Mummy — or should I say Papa and Mama? Some being picked up by a succession of old boots in tweed skirts and sensible shoes. The Aunts, doubtless.’
‘Chappel, I want you to dig deeper and more energetically in this area. The girl was very keen on returning to Park Lane. You still have contacts?’ Sandilands asked.
‘How deep should I dig? That’s the question, sir. It’s posh round there. I could end up revealing cabinet ministers in their socks, military gents out of uniform, police chiefs in considerable embarrassment …’
‘All right, we get the picture, Chappel. Be discreet — but dig! Grease a few palms if you have to. I want this particular trail followed.’
‘Well, I’m taking Mrs Throckmorton’s for a dead end.’ Hopkirk took up the tale again, reddening. ‘Nothing known at the address she gave us.’
‘My fault.’ Joe broke in swiftly to stem his super’s embarrassment. ‘It was I who authorized her return to what she claimed as home. I was present for the last act of her performance. And what a turn she gave us. We should perhaps be combing the cast lists at the Old Vic to find her.’ He gave a rueful smile and admitted: ‘I even gave her my handkerchief!’
‘She’d already got through mine,’ Hopkirk grumbled.
‘Yes, I must say — and perhaps the superintendent will agree? — she was the perfect Mayfair gadabout. I still can’t picture her in the role of cold-blooded killer who turns up to witness an execution she has organized and paid for. And who coolly proceeds to deliver the coup de grâce herself when she sees that her minions have bungled it.’
Bacchus sighed with annoyance. ‘Never mind the character assessment. Can we stick to the facts? The gun? Was she searched?’