‘Murder?’ Charles Laverton-West’s eyes popped nearly out of his head. ‘You say murder?’

‘Quite correct. Now, MrLaverton-West, have you any idea who might be likely to make away with Mrs Allen?’

Laverton-West fairly spluttered out his answer.

‘No—no, indeed—nothing of the sort! The mere idea is—is unimaginable!’

‘She never mentioned any enemies? Anyone who might have a grudge against her?’

‘Never.’

‘Did you know that she had a pistol?’

‘I was not aware of the fact.’

He looked a little startled.

‘Miss Plenderleith says that Mrs Allen brought this pistol back from abroad with her some years ago.’

‘Really?’

‘Of course, we have only Miss Plenderleith’s word for that. It is quite possible that Mrs Allen felt herself to be in danger from some source and kept the pistol handy for reasons of her own.’

Charles Laverton-West shook his head doubtfully. He seemed quite bewildered and dazed.

‘What is your opinion of Miss Plenderleith, Mr Laverton-West? I mean, does she strike you as a reliable, truthful person?’

The other pondered a minute.

‘I think so—yes, I should say so.’

‘You don’t like her?’ suggested Japp, who had been watching him closely.

‘I wouldn’t say that. She is not the type of young woman I admire. That sarcastic, independent type is not attractive to me, but I should say she was quite truthful.’

‘H’m,’ said Japp. ‘Do you know a Major Eustace?’

‘Eustace? Eustace? Ah, yes, I remember the name. I met him once at Barbara’s—Mrs Allen’s. Rather a doubtful customer in my opinion. I said as much to my—to Mrs Allen. He wasn’t the type of man I should have encouraged to come to the house after we were married.’

‘And what did Mrs Allen say?’

‘Oh! she quite agreed. She trusted my judgment implicitly. A man knows other men better than a woman can do. She explained that she couldn’t very well be rude to a man whom she had not seen for some time—I think she felt especially a horror of being snobbish! Naturally, as my wife, she would find a good many of her old associates well—unsuitable, shall we say?’

‘Meaning that in marrying you she was bettering her position?’ Japp asked bluntly.

Laverton-West held up a well-manicured hand.

‘No, no, not quite that. As a matter of fact, Mrs Allen’s mother was a distant relation of my own family. She was fully my equal in birth. But of course, in my position, I have to be especially careful in choosing my friends—and my wife in choosing hers. One is to a certain extent in the limelight.’

‘Oh, quite,’ said Japp dryly. He went on, ‘So you can’t help us in any way?’

‘No indeed. I am utterly at sea. Barbara! Murdered! It seems incredible.’

‘Now, Mr Laverton-West, can you tell me what your own movements were on the night of November fifth?’

‘My movements? My movements?’

Laverton-West’s voice rose in shrill protest.

‘Purely a matter of routine,’ explained Japp. ‘We—er—have to ask everybody.’

Charles Laverton-West looked at him with dignity.