Neither of them spoke. In the silence Lettie was aware only of their deeply drawn breath. They sat on the two kitchen chairs, not speaking. Time passed, endless unmeasured time. Then there were faces passing the opposite window. The police had arrived. Lettie had expected them to walk in but there was a knock on the door and, glancing at Candace’s rigid face, she went to open it. Commander Dalgliesh came in followed by Inspector Miskin and Sergeant Benton-Smith. To her surprise, Dalgliesh didn’t immediately go to the freezer but concerned himself with the two women. Taking two mugs from the dresser, he filled them at the tap and brought them over. Candace left her mug on the table, but Lettie found herself desperate for water and drained hers. She was aware of Commander Dalgliesh watching them closely.

He said, “I need to ask some questions. You’ve both had a terrible shock. Are you well enough to talk?”

Regarding him steadily, Candace said, “Yes, perfectly, thank you.”

Lettie murmured her consent.

“Then perhaps we had better go next door. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Inspector Miskin followed them into the sitting room. Lettie thought, So he’s not going to leave us alone until he’s heard our story, then wondered if she was being perspicacious or unreasonably suspicious. If Candace and she had wanted to concoct an agreed account of their actions there had been time enough before the police arrived.

They seated themselves on the oak settle and Inspector Miskin drew up two chairs from the table to face them. Without sitting, she said, “Can I get you anything? Tea, coffee—if Miss Westhall will tell me where to find things.”

Candace’s voice was uncompromisingly harsh. “Nothing, thank you. All I want is to get out of here.”

“Commander Dalgliesh won’t be long.”

Nor was he. Hardly had she spoken than he appeared and took one of the chairs directly opposite them. Inspector Miskin took the other. Dalgliesh’s face, only feet from theirs, was as pale as Candace’s, but it was impossible to guess what was going on behind that carved enigmatic mask. When he spoke his voice was gentle, almost sympathetic, but Lettie had no doubt that the ideas his mind was busily processing had little to do with compassion. He asked, “How did you both come to be in Stone Cottage this morning?”

It was Candace who replied. “We were looking for Robin. His business partner rang the office at about nine-forty to say that he hadn’t been able to contact Robin since yesterday morning and was worried. Mrs. Frensham came over first and found the remains of a meal on the kitchen table, his car in the driveway and his bed apparently not slept in. So we came back to make a more thorough search.”

“Did either of you know or suspect that you would find Robin Boyton in the freezer?”