Seeing is Believing by E.X. Ferrars Page A

was going to be a very expensive call.
    I thought about Hugh as I drove; thinking it was probable that whatever his intention might be at the moment, he would be pouring his heart out to Avril by the evening. I also thought about the fact that although I had told him the literal truth that I had heard no one actually discussing his feelings for Avril, I had heard hints dropped, had noticed glances and raised eyebrows and the occasional smile which had shown that a number of people had thought as I had about their relationship. In fact, it had been these things that had made me think about thesituation myself. What I knew nothing about were Aval's feelings for Hugh. I had been fairly sure that the Loxleys’ marriage was not a happy one, but I had had no reason to believe that Hugh was the cause of it.
    In Otterswell I drove to the police station, parked the car, went inside and introduced myself and asked for Detective Inspector Holroyd. I was taken into a small, depressingly bare, virtually unfurnished room and the inspector, together with the sergeant who had been with him the day before, followed me into it almost immediately. Once the inspector was there, the room no longer seemed empty. His bulk seemed to fill the place all by itself. We sat down facing one another across a table and the sergeant squeezed himself into the little space that was left at one end of it, produced papers which I assumed were the statement I would have to sign, and another notebook. The inspector offered me a cigarette and when I refused gave a sigh, as if the increasing number of witnesses and suspects who would not smoke somehow diminished his sense of authority.
    ‘Well now, Mrs Chance, this needn't take us long,’ he said. ‘But I'd like to go over one or two of the things you told us yesterday. This man, Fred Dyer, whom you saw at the Loxleys’ gate-’
    ‘I'm not at all sure it was Fred Dyer,’ I interrupted, then had a feeling that I had done exactly what he wanted. ‘Didn't I say that yesterday? The more I think of it, the more I feel it was someone who'd made himself up to look like Fred.’
    ‘Would you go so far as to say you're sure of that?’
    ‘Almost,’ I said. ‘His hair was wrong. It was longer than Fred wears his, and it wasn't the right colour — well, I think it wasn't. But still, I can't say I'm absolutely certain. When I passed him in the lane it never occurred to me it was anyone but Fred. I only thought there was something wrong about the way he acted, keeping turned away fromme and not chatting at all. That did strike me as unlike him.’
    ‘You'd say then that Fred Dyer is normally a friendly man,’ the inspector said.
    ‘No, I don't think I would. I think he's pretty standoffish. But he isn't discourteous. He'd sooner say he thought it was probably going to rain presently, or something like that, than intentionally cut one dead.’ ‘And there were the gloves, of course.’ ‘Yes, the gloves. I'm sure he was wearing them.’ ‘You don't believe it was Dyer you saw, do you?’ We gave each other a long look without saying anything. The fact that he was putting pressure on me to say that it had not been Fred Dyer at the gate made me determined not to commit myself. Yet the trouble was that he was right about my feelings.
    ‘I'm sorry I can't really help you,’ I said. ‘I liked Peter Loxley, you know. I'd like you to catch his murderer.’
    ‘Well now, suppose you take a look at this statement that Sergeant Miles has here,’ he said, apparently giving up the attempt to get a really definite answer out of me, ‘and if you're satisfied that it's an accurate version of what you told us yesterday, sign it for us.’ He handed me a couple of sheets of paper.
    The statement was admirably accurate and I signed it, then was told that that was all that was wanted of me. I went out to the car and drove home. I tried to think of other things besides the murder, for instance of Hugh being in love with Avril