“I illustrated all his storybooks,” Jerry said. “ I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t prepared to work with him again. Not for a while at least … I was bored with them. I’d been offered other work and I wanted time to do it.”

“How did you think that Mr. Todd would take the news?” The policeman spoke very softly. Connibear could hardly hear the words.

“I thought that he would be angry, upset. That’s why I wanted to talk to him privately. He could be quite childish if he didn’t get his own way. I wasn’t looking forward to telling him.”

“Did you go to see Mr. Todd last night to get this unpleasant interview over with?”

“No. I didn’t leave the observatory yesterday evening.”

“What exactly is your relationship with Mrs. Marshall?” He still spoke slowly, but he looked directly at Packham for the first time. His long, lined face was quite still, intent, as he waited for the reply.

“We are good friends.”

“Do you sleep with her?”

The pace of the questions was increasing. Jerry Packham did not reply.

Savage said sharply: “This interview is in confidence. Do you sleep with her?”

“Occasionally.”

“Did you sleep with her last night?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I had decided that I wanted no more than friendship from her. I want to be more independent.”

“Did Mrs. Marshall leave the observatory yesterday evening?”

“She said she was going for a walk.”

“Did she go to see Mr. Todd?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“You arranged to meet Mr. Todd in the seawatching hide early this morning. Did you go?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you keep the appointment?”

“Because I overslept. I had set my alarm clock to go off at six-thirty. Either it didn’t go off or I didn’t hear it. I slept very heavily. When I woke it was almost breakfast time. I felt very guilty to have missed him, especially when I saw how bad the weather was. I presumed that he hadn’t waited for me, or that he hadn’t bothered to go because of the storm, so I went down to the Wendy House—that’s what we call Charlie’s bungalow—straight after breakfast.”

“Do you know anything about the mist-net with the missing guy?”

“No. Although I’m a member of the committee I don’t manage to get to the island very often. I haven’t got a mist-net endorsement to my ringing licence, so I can’t use the mist nets on my own and John is usually busy with school parties.”

“Did you take the seawatching-hide key from this room at any time during the weekend?”

“No.”

They waited until Jerry Packham had shut the door behind him, and the footsteps had moved away down the stone corridor.

“He’s keeping something from us,” Savage said.

Connibear said nothing. The superintendent wanted him to act as admiring audience. Connibear did not want to upset his relationship with Savage—his chances of promotion depended on it—but he was not prepared to admire too readily.