“How would you expect him to sound, Inspector? He wasn’t exactly ringing to enquire after my health. Oh God! I didn’t mean that, I’m trying to be helpful. It’s just that I’m still trying to take it in. How did he sound? He was almost incoherent at first. It took me some minutes to calm him down. After that—well, you can take your pick of the adjectives—shocked, horrified, surprised, frightened. Mostly shocked and frightened. A natural reaction. He’d just been told that a close friend had been murdered.”

“Did he use that word, ‘murdered’?”

“Yes, he did. A reasonable assumption, I’d say, when the police were there and he’d been told they’d be coming to interview him. And not the local CID either. Scotland Yard. He didn’t need telling that this wasn’t a natural death.”

“Did he say anything about how Miss Gradwyn died?”

“He didn’t know. He was pretty bitter that no one at the Manor had bothered to come and break the news to him. He only found out that something had happened when the police cars arrived. I still don’t know how she died and I don’t suppose you’re about to tell me.”

Kate said, “What we need from you, Mr. Coxon, is anything you can tell us about Robin’s relationship with Rhoda Gradwyn and, of course, with you. We now have two suspicious deaths which could be linked. How long have you known Robin?”

“About seven years. We met at the party after a drama-school production in which he had a not particularly distinguished part. I went with a friend who teaches fencing, and Robin caught my eye. Well, that’s what he does, he catches people’s eyes. We didn’t speak then, but the party lingered on and my friend, who had another date, had left by the time the last bottle was finished. It was a foul night, the rain pelting down, and I could see Robin, somewhat inadequately clad, waiting for a bus. So I hailed a cab and asked if I could drop him. That’s how the acquaintanceship began.”

Benton said, “And you became friends?”