“Any news?” Savage shouted at the officer at the desk, but he did not stop moving. The policeman had to call up the stairs after him that there had been no news.

They both sat down. Connibear took out his notebook, so that they could discuss the interview with the Todds in some detail. The phone rang. Connibear answered, waited for the call to be put through. Savage drummed his fingers on the desk crossly, as if Connibear were wasting time unnecessarily. The call came through and Connibear listened. Then he said:

“You’d better speak to the boss.”

As he handed the receiver to Savage he said: “ It’s Martindale. There’s been another murder on the island. He’s arrested young Mardle.”

Chapter Nine

George Palmer-Jones returned to the observatory with Paul Derbyshire and Pamela Marshall at about the same time as Savage was beginning his interview with Ernest Todd. Elizabeth was serving cocoa. Constable Martindale took a cup, and ate the cakes she offered with enjoyment. Everyone was there. Everyone was quiet, exhausted by the drama of the day’s events and the wind. Elizabeth collected the cups, John carried them to the kitchen for her. They returned briefly to say goodnight, then disappeared to the flat. The other guests started talking about bed and, led by Jasmine Carson, went upstairs. Pamela lingered, hoping perhaps for another opportunity to talk to George, but Martindale had moved into the seat next to his and showed no sign of leaving them alone.

She said, “See you in the morning,” and followed the others up.

“Would you like to hear the tapes of the other interviews, sir?” Martindale said. “Superintendent Savage said that I was to ask you.”

“Did he?” George felt tired. Savage’s ability to bully him, despite his absence, was oppressive. He felt inclined to refuse, but curiosity overcame him.

He looked properly for the first time at the policeman. He seemed very young, shy, not as arrogant as young policemen often seemed to be. “Are you local?” he asked.

“Not quite,” Martindale said. “I went to school in Bideford.”

George smiled. Bideford was only twenty miles away.

They went together to the ringing room and listened to the tapes. George made notes in his bird notebook. Martindale sat very still and listened with concentration. He must have looked like that when he was revising for O levels, George thought. When the tapes finished Martindale looked anxious, as if he were to be examined on their content, but George said:

“I’m too tired to take it all in now, Perhaps we could discuss them tomorrow morning when we’ve had a chance to sleep on it.”