‘Looking at tea towels?’
‘Yes. They’re not things I’ve paid much attention to in the past. But since my wife left, I’ve had to acquaint myself with them and many other household items. Anyway, she was surprised to see me there and thought it amusing that I was looking at tea towels. I told her I was trying to buy a present for my wife. And she told me there are better presents to buy a wife than tea towels. Now she probably thinks I’m a dull husband who buys his wife tea towels as a gift. Anyway, she chatted away to me and I had to oblige.’
‘Do you think she was suspicious about seeing you again?’
‘No, I don’t think so. But this can’t happen again. If she sees me a third time, then she will realise something is up. Mr Ramsden gave me one more chance and I’ve blown it. So this is it. I have to stop doing the job. I can’t say I’m too sorry about it because it’s been incredibly boring. And I can assure Mr Ramsden that I’ve found no evidence of his wife having an affair.’ He sighed. ‘I feel like I’ve failed, Augusta. I managed to spend a couple of years working undercover in Belgium, speaking different languages, and working in extremely dangerous conditions. And yet I haven’t managed to follow a lady around London for a couple of weeks without breaking my cover. Perhaps I’ve lost my touch.’
‘No, you haven’t. It’s only because you intervened when the thief tried to take her bag. People remember that sort of thing. And she clearly has a good memory for faces. I’m sure another case is going to come along which will be far more interesting.’
‘Yes, I hope so. Is that my telephone ringing upstairs?’
‘I’ll answer it for you,’ said Augusta. She could get up the stairs much faster than Philip.
‘Thank you, Augusta. I’ll follow hot on your heels.’
She dashed off and was relieved to get to the telephone before the caller gave up.
‘This is Detective Sergeant Joyce,’ he said. ‘May I speak with Mr Fisher?’
‘Certainly. He’s just on his way.’
Philip arrived in his office, having made his way up the stairs with his walking stick. He took the telephone receiver from Augusta, and she sat in one of the easy chairs as he spoke to the Scotland Yard detective.
‘That was Joyce,’ he said as he put the receiver down.
‘I know. I answered it.’ She smiled.
‘Oh yes, of course. He’s interviewed Robert Stanton today and he’s unsure what to make of him. Stanton is adamant his wife’s death was an accident.’
‘He thinks she accidentally fell out of a window?’
‘It’s a bit odd, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s because he pushed her himself. Anyway, Stanton supposedly has an alibi for the time of his wife’s death. I don’t think you’re quite going to believe who it is.’
‘Who?’
‘Walter Ferguson.’
Augusta groaned. ‘That man gets everywhere! He’s awful. Tell Joyce that he can’t believe a single word Ferguson says.’
‘I’ll let him know he can be unreliable.’
‘Unreliable? That’s an enormous understatement, Philip. Tell Joyce he can’t accept Walter Ferguson’s alibi. The man is a snake.’
‘I agree with you. But it’s possible he’s telling the truth.’
‘I don’t believe he’s telling the truth. He’s manipulating things again. Did he know Robert Stanton before he read about the long-lost letter in the Daily London News?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t. I think he must have contacted the Stantons because he wants to investigate Alexander Miller’s disappearance himself! He congratulated me for finding the letter. It wasn’t sincere, of course. But I think he was envious I uncovered the case. He’s trying to undermine me!’
‘We can’t be certain about any of this, Augusta.’
‘But why else would he have got involved with the Stantons?’
‘It’s difficult to say. Let’s see how Joyce gets on with establishing the alibi with him.’
Chapter 45
‘Oh hello, Walter,’ said Robert when he answered the knock at his door that evening.
‘I thought I’d come and see how you’re holding up, Robert.’
‘I’m not sure I am, really.’ He ran a hand across his brow. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. But Walter Ferguson was standing on his doorstep expecting to be invited in. Robert reasoned he would be a distraction. ‘Come on in.’ He stepped to one side to make room for him.
‘How did you get on with the police?’ Walter asked as Robert showed him to the sitting room.
‘One of them looked no older than twelve.’
‘Detective Sergeant Joyce from the Yard? I know who you mean.’
‘I told them Jane’s death was an accident.’ Robert poured out two whiskies. ‘But they seem to think she was pushed.’
‘Do they think you did it?’
Robert handed a glass to Walter. ‘Probably.’
Walter shook his head. ‘It’s always the way. They pick on the easiest person. The grieving husband.’
