Now the young police officer was ready to direct his full attention to Rex Hanway.
‘Well, Mr Hanway,’ he said, ‘I hope you don’t mind my trespassing in this way. It was Mr Levey’s kind suggestion that I borrow your office.’
‘That’s quite all right, Inspector. It’s my office only in the sense that I happen – happened – to be working on a picture next door. I can’t help feeling that, given the way things have been going, it’ll become some other director’s office before too long.’
‘Yes, yes, I do know what you mean. Thank you, nevertheless. So just let me explain to you what this is all about. I felt it might be useful to put to you – you and a few others, I should add – some preliminary questions about this dreadful business while all the details were still fresh in your mind.’
‘I’m not likely to forget them in a hurry. But I can quite see how meaningful to you one’s immediate impressions might prove. May I ask, however …?’
‘Yes?’
Hanway turned to look at the two other seated occupants of the room.
‘Forgive me for being blunt, but who exactly are these people? Surely they’re not also police officers?’
‘No, they aren’t. That’s to say, this gentleman’ – he indicated Trubshawe – ‘is an ex-police officer, Chief-Inspector Trubshawe, formerly of Scotland Yard, and this lady’ – he extended his arm in the novelist’s direction – ‘is Miss Evadne Mount, the author, you know.’
Hanway nodded politely at the novelist.
‘Of course, of course. I noticed you on the set yesterday afternoon and actually wondered where I could have seen you before. You were a good friend of Cora’s, I believe?’
‘I was, yes.’
‘My commiserations. This must be especially unpleasant for you.’
Calvert took charge again.
‘Since you’re wondering why they’re here, let me simply say that we three were discussing the case in the cafeteria yesterday and, in the course of our conversation, both Miss Mount and Mr Trubshawe came up with several interesting insights. Which made me ask them if they would accept to be here, in a totally unofficial capacity, while I conducted my inquiry. If you have any objection to their presence, you have only to say –’
‘No, none at all. I welcome whatever – or rather, whoever – it takes to solve this terrible crime.’
‘Good. Then that’s settled. We can proceed. You are Rex Hanway, the director of If Ever They Find Me Dead?’
‘I am.’
‘Which, as I understand, you took over after the death of Alastair Farjeon?’
‘Yes, I did.’
Evadne Mount suddenly interjected.
‘May I, Inspector?’
Though willing to acquiesce to her request, Calvert was nevertheless slightly taken aback. It’s true that it was he himself who had invited the novelist, along with his own former superior, to participate in the questioning, but he hadn’t expected that she would be so indecently prompt in taking up his invitation. Spotting a twinkle in Trubshawe’s eye, however, one that seemed to signal ‘I could have told you …’, he merely said:
‘Please, Miss Mount.’
‘Mr Hanway,’ she asked, ‘is it not true that you took over the picture under somewhat unusual circumstances?’
‘When you use the word “unusual”,’ asked Hanway in his turn, ‘do I take it you’re alluding to the circumstances of Mr Farjeon’s death?’
‘Yes, partly so. But I was really thinking of the very singular testament which he left behind in his London flat.’
‘Testament?’ said Calvert. ‘What’s this? I’ve heard of no testament.’
‘Perhaps,’ said the novelist calmly, ‘Mr Hanway would like to explain.’
‘Miss Mount is quite correct, Inspector. There was a testament. I mean, there was a – queer, I think you’d have to call it – a queer document which Hattie, Mr Farjeon’s wife, discovered among his papers after he died.’
‘What sort of a document?’
‘As far as I’m aware, Mrs Farjeon still has it in her possession and will, I’m sure, be only too happy to hand it over to you. It was written and signed by Farje.’
Trubshawe now took it upon himself to intervene.
‘Was it witnessed by anyone?’
‘Not to my knowledge. Basically, it stated that, if anything happened to him – that is, to Farje – before he was able to start shooting If Ever They Find Me Dead, then I was to be assigned to direct the film in his place.’
A moment of silence ensued while Calvert digested this information. Then:
‘That strikes me as a most extraordinary statement.’
‘I wholly concur,’ said Hanway coolly.
‘Is this sort of posthumous delegation or deputation – however you want to define it – standard practice in the picture business?’
‘Not at all. It’s the first time I ever heard of such a thing. Whenever such a situation arises – like the death of a director in mid-shoot or even before the actual filming has begun – I would have assumed it was exclusively the producer’s prerogative to decide how to proceed, if at all. But you understand, Inspector, that’s only my assumption, as I really can’t remember it ever happening in the business.’
‘I see. So you yourself were surprised to learn of the existence of this document?’
‘Surprised? I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t believe my ears when Hattie told me.’
Now Trubshawe asked:
‘Did Mr Farjeon ever confide in you that he feared for his life?’
‘Certainly not. Nor does it sound very much like the Alastair Farjeon I knew.’
‘Assuming he had harboured such a fear, who would he have confided it to?’
‘I imagine that, if he confided in anyone, it would have to be Mrs Farjeon. But she never once said anything to me about it.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Trubshawe to Calvert, ‘we should have Mrs Farjeon called in.’
At that moment, prefacing his interruption with a polite cough, Sergeant Whistler announced from the doorway:
‘She’s already here, sir.’
‘What? Farjeon’s widow is in the studio?’
‘Yes, sir. I saw her arrive. About twenty minutes ago.’
‘What on earth is she doing here?’
‘It seems she’s always here,’ said Evadne.
‘Always here?’
‘So Cora told us. When Farjeon used to make his films here, his wife would always be present in the studio, sitting – also knitting – in a corner all by herself, never exchanging a word with anyone.’
‘But what is she doing here today?’ Calvert insisted. ‘Mr Hanway, have you any idea?’
‘Knitting as usual, would be my guess. But if you mean, why has she turned up on the set of a film which has just been closed down, I really couldn’t say.’
Trubshawe turned again to the young Inspector.
‘Whatever the reason, it might make sense for us to question her too.’
‘Good point,’ replied Calvert. ‘Whistler, go find out if Mrs – Hattie, isn’t it? – if Mrs Hattie Farjeon is still in the studio. If she is, inform her – politely, now – that I’d prefer her not to leave until I’ve had a chance to speak to her.’
With a brisk ‘Right away, sir,’ the Sergeant left the room.
‘Mr Hanway,’ was what Evadne now said to the director, ‘you’ve just admitted that you were surprised to hear of the existence of this unorthodox document. Obviously you must have been. But were you also pleased?’