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motive on a person who had no opportunity to commit a crime. Now, what we need to know is exactly who was in regular contact with Mr Craven in the three months before his death.’ Privately, he was already speculating about what she considered to be her own motive, but he preferred to delay such consideration until after his visits to doctor and solicitor later in the day.
    She said bleakly, ‘I’ve already told you that I was the only one who saw him every day.’
    ‘And we’ve already recorded your name and your function, Mrs Lewis. We shall return to you in due course, I assure you. But unless you are going to offer us a confession to homicide, we had better begin a list of other possibilities. Perhaps I should tell you that our information is that a killer would not have needed to be in daily contact with the victim in this case. Once a week, perhaps even a little less than that, would have sufficed.’
    She took a deep, contemplative breath and said reluctantly, ‘There’s the family, of course.’ She spoke like one who assumed they were already intimately acquainted with the details of Craven’s relatives. It was a reaction they were used to meeting; perhaps in this case it owed something to shock.
    Hook, who was anxious to continue the list he had already surreptitiously begun with the housekeeper, said, ‘Are we right in assuming that there is no Mrs Craven?’
     
    ‘She has been dead for many years.’ Was the obvious surprise which infused the statement that of an outraged mistress? Edmund Craven had been a quarter of a century older than this attractive woman, but policemen see too much of the world to be other than cynical about the attractions of money to those without easy access to it.
    ‘But there are children?’ This much Lambert already knew: the next of kin have to be informed when an exhumation is to be conducted. But he knew none of the detail of their access to the dead man. It would be interesting to learn how the housekeeper assessed their comings and goings. In due course he would ask the children themselves, probing for the divergences which were often the avenues to the truth in a murder inquiry.
    ‘There are two children. Both married; both still living in the area.’
    ‘And both on good terms with their father in his last days?’
    Although Lambert prompted gently, they were all aware of the implications of the question in this context.
    ‘Both of them loved their father.’ It came so quickly that it was obvious she had already been asking herself these questions.
    ‘And did both of them show this by visiting him regularly?’
    ‘Yes. Angela came in every couple of days—probably almost every day as he weakened towards the end.’ She stopped abruptly as she realised the possibilities she was opening up. Until this business was cleared up, every affectionate visit from family or friend would be clouded like this.
    Lambert watched Hook compiling his record in his round, slow hand, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth like that of a diligent small child. Then he said quietly, ‘And Mr Craven’s son?’
    ‘David. He came in once a week. Still does. He pays me my wages, though he does that by cheque at the end of each month.’
    Lambert thought he caught the faintest edge of hostility beneath the neutral statements, but he could not be sure. When she did not enlarge upon them, he said, ‘Was this on the same day each week?’
    ‘No. His business means that he travels about the country quite a lot.’
    ‘That business being—?’
    ‘David Craven runs what I believe is called a property company.’ This time her distaste came out clearly in the phrase. He looked at her interrogatively, but she was too shrewd to be drawn further.
    ‘But he managed to come to this house at least once a week.’
    She nodded. ‘Probably a little more frequently than that as his father’s condition worsened over the last few months.’ It was said a little defiantly, as if she was