“Hello. Good of you to come.” His voice was rich, mellowed and deepened by whisky and cigar smoke. They sat on a settee. Connibear sat awkwardly. Savage leaned forward, his hands on his knees, and stared expectantly at Todd. He was unmoved by his surroundings, and waited like a child hoping for a treat.

“It’s a delicate matter,” Ernest said. “I didn’t want to discuss it with one of your constables.”

“You think that you might be able to help us? You have some information about Mr. Todd’s death?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “I’m not sure that it’s relevant at all, but I’ve always believed in helping the police. I thought that I had better tell you … You must decide whether it’s important or not … I can take it that our conversation will be in confidence?”

“Certainly, sir.” Savage grinned encouragingly. He was becoming impatient. “ Now, what is this information?”

“It’s about a boy called Nicholas Mardle.”

“He works for my husband,” Helen Todd interrupted. She too was becoming irritated by her husband’s inability to come to the point. “Ernest wanted to tell you that he has made threats against our family.”

“Has he?” Savage spoke without emphasis, but the child had received his treat, patience had been rewarded. “What exactly did he have against Mr. Todd?”

“That’s just it,” Ernest said. He felt more comfortable with an indirect approach. “He didn’t have any grudge at all against Charlie. It was the rest of the family he disliked.”

“Why?”

Ernest took a drink from the glass. His words became smoother, but he was obviously uneasy.

“His parents both worked for us. They were excellent employees and worked for us for many years. His father was caretaker and gardener and his mother began as chambermaid and eventually became housekeeper at the Grand. Because of Mr. Mardle’s position, they were given a cottage converted from some of the stables at the back of the hotel. Unfortunately Mr. Mardle had an accident—a road accident, nothing to do with his employment. He was in hospital for a number of weeks and then he died. We were in a very difficult position then. Mrs. Mardle hadn’t worked for us for some time because of ill health. Although the son, Nicholas, worked for us he was only an assistant manager and didn’t warrant being given the tenancy of one of the cottages. And of course we needed a new caretaker, and we would have had to compensate him financially if we couldn’t provide accommodation.”

“So you threw Mrs. Mardle and the son out of the cottage.”

“We asked them to leave. Of course we followed the letter of the law, gave them adequate notice. We even made a generous ex gratia payment for their inconvenience. Mrs. Mardle was quite happy.”

“But Nicholas was not?”

“He’s unbalanced,” Mrs. Todd said decisively. “He’s always been a surly, bad-tempered boy. I’m surprised not to have seen him in court.”

“Yet you decided to employ him, Mr. Todd. Why was that? Because you felt some responsibility for him?”