“I don’t think so. Something’s been puzzling me all week. There were dozens of people milling around backstage. But not a soul admits to seeing the key being taken or put back. Not a soul admits to seeing anyone in that corridor except Paddy. It seems impossible that anyone could have got in that way unseen. Now, I noticed some scaffolding poles on the kitchen roof. They hadn’t been there earlier in the day and they were gone a couple of days later. I believe they were used to enter the murder room. Via the window. I want to check that it can be done.”

Chris looked stunned. “You’ve got to be joking!”

Lindsay shook her head.

“Have you told the police about this?” Chris asked.

Lindsay sighed. “They’d never believe me. You see, I knew there was something I couldn’t remember and it only came back to me last night. They know I’ve been trying to find out what happened. They’d be bound to think I was making it up to put Paddy in the clear. Besides, Cordelia and I believe it’s not enough just to clear Paddy. We’ve got to find the real culprit if we really want to help her. I think we’re very close to the truth now. So, can I count on your help?”

Chris looked worried. She said, “I still think you should tell the police, but if you’re dead set on doing it this way I’ll help all I can. What do we do?”

Fortunately, both of them were properly dressed for their task, Lindsay in jeans, sweater, and training shoes, Chris in the tracksuit and trainers she’d been wearing in preparation for the match. As they left Longnor, Lindsay picked up a selection of spanners and an adjustable wrench from her car tool box. They walked across to the squash court building site as Lindsay explained her theory more fully to Chris, carefully skirting round the subject of possible suspects. At the site, the gates were padlocked together, but it took Lindsay and Chris only a few moments to climb them. Then Lindsay selected the four poles she wanted and the clamps that would fasten the frame together. Back at the gate, they puzzled for a moment about how to get the equipment out, till Chris pointed out gaps between the fencing and the ground that would allow them to be pushed through.

They quickly clambered back over the gates, Chris complaining, “I hope to God none of my bright sparks is watching this carry-on.”