‘No,’ she said. ‘There is always unpleasantness in this house. Mr Herriard was very disagreeable.’

The Inspector coughed. ‘You’ve lived here for some time, haven’t you, madam?’

‘Two years,’ she said, without a change in her expression.

‘Then I may take it that you know most of the ins and outs of the place, as one might say?’

‘I never interfered,’ said Maud.

‘No, madam, I’m sure…Would you say that there had been any serious trouble between the deceased and any of his guests?’

‘No. There is usually trouble when my husband’s nephew and niece visit Lexham. They do not try to please their uncle. The Herriards are like that.’

‘Quarrelsome, do you mean?’

‘Yes. Mr Herriard liked it.’

‘He liked having his relations quarrel with him?’ asked the Inspector incredulously.

‘I don’t think he minded. He never seemed to like people who were civil to him. He was very rude himself, very. He didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘Would you say that there had been serious trouble over this play which Miss Herriard wanted her uncle to spend money on?’

‘Oh no!’ Maud said calmly. ‘He didn’t care about the play, that’s all. I didn’t either.’

‘Did he refuse to put up any money?’

‘I expect so. I daresay he would have in the end, however. He was very fond of Paula. It was a stupid moment for her to have chosen, that’s all.’

‘Why was it a stupid moment, madam?’

Her eyes slowly turned towards him again. ‘Mr Herriard was annoyed about the party.’

‘In what way?’

‘He didn’t want a party.’

‘But if he didn’t want it, why did he have it?’

‘It was my husband’s doing. He is not at all like his brother. He thought it would be a good thing. But Mr Herriard very much disliked Miss Dean, and that upset him.’

The Inspector pricked up his ears. ‘He disliked Miss Dean? He didn’t want his nephew to marry her?’

‘No. But I don’t suppose he will. I always thought he had made a mistake. I expect he stuck to it to annoy his uncle.’

This seemed fantastic to the Inspector. ‘Stuck to it to annoy his uncle?’

‘He likes annoying people,’ said Maud.

This matter-of-fact opinion, stated with a simplicity that could not but carry weight, confused the Inspector’s mind. He began to perceive that he had to deal with extraordinary people, and it was with misgiving that he presently confronted Mathilda Clare.

His first thought was that she was no beauty, his second that she had very shrewd eyes. Her indefinable air of expensive chic slightly alarmed him, but he found her perfectly easy to get on with, if not very helpful.

She corroborated Maud’s testimony. She had never yet, she told him, stayed at Lexham Manor without finding herself pitchforked into the middle of a family quarrel. ‘Though I’m bound to say,’ she admitted, ‘that things weren’t usually as sultry as they have been this Christmas. That was Joseph Herriard’s fault. He meant it all for the best, but he’s one of those tactless creatures who spend their whole lives putting their feet into it. This time he’s surpassed himself, for not content with getting Miss Dean into the home he allowed Miss Herriard to bring Mr Roydon here.’