I stepped forward. “No, I’m her friend. I’ve put her to bed in my room since she was in a state of shock. She didn’t kill him, Constable. She had been to have a bath. She came into her room and kicked something in the dark, picked it up and found it was the knife when she turned on the light. Then she saw Tony Summers lying on her bed, naked. She has absolutely no idea how he got there or who might have killed him.”

“The two were well acquainted, were they?” the constable asked, giving me something akin to a wink. “Otherwise why would he be lying on her bed with no clothes on?”

“They were childhood playmates, when she used to come down here in the summers to stay with her grandmother Lady Knott,” I said.

He brightened up at the mention of this. “Lady Knott, eh? She were a fine old bird, weren’t she? I remember how she used to ride out in her little pony and trap. Well respected around here. So that’s her grandmother. Well, that will sit well with the jury if she’s tried down here, but if it’s a case up to the Old Bailey, which it well might be, seeing as how it will be a capital offense, if you get my meaning. . . .” He paused, realizing he was rambling on. “So what has been going on since they were childhood friends, then?”

“Miss Warburton-Stoke had not seen Mr. Summers for some time and had no idea he was living here or that he was married to Mrs. Summers.”

“In which case why are you staying here if she knew nothing about him or his wife?”

“We came down to Cornwall to look at a piece of property that Belinda inherited,” I said. “We bumped into Rose Summers and she remembered Belinda from her childhood and invited us to stay.”

“I see.” He sucked air through his teeth. Then he ran his hand through his thick white hair. He was clearly at a loss what to do next.

“You were going to telephone the inspector?” I suggested.

“Right.” He turned back to stare at Belinda’s closed door and then at mine. “I’m not sure what to do about the young lady. By rights I should take her to the closest jail, I suppose. But the closest jail is in Truro at the county court and that’s a good way in the dark and I don’t have a proper vehicle to escort the young lady. I borrowed Alfie Fellows’s motorbike, since the matter was urgent. She can hardly sit on the pillion, seeing as how it’s raining out there.”

“She’ll be quite safe here,” I assured him. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t run away.”