The young woman threw open a door on the left, and said:
"Inspector Craddock, Aunt Letty.
Mitzi wouldn't go to the door.
She's shut herself up in the kitchen and she's making the most marvellous moaning noises.
I shouldn't think we'd get any lunch."
She added in an explanatory manner to Craddock:
"She doesn't like the police," and withdrew, shutting the door behind her.
Craddock advanced to meet the owner of Little Paddocks.
He saw a tall active-looking woman of about sixty.
Her grey hair had a slight natural wave and made a distinguished setting for an intelligent, resolute face.
She had keen grey eyes and a square determined chin.
There was a surgical dressing on her left ear.
She wore no make-up and was plainly dressed in a well-cut tweed coat and skirt and pullover.
Round the neck of the latter she wore, rather unexpectedly, a set of old-fashioned cameos - a Victorian touch which seemed to hint at a sentimental streak not otherwise apparent.
Close beside her, with an eager round face and untidy hair escaping from a hair net, was a woman of about the same age whom Craddock had no difficulty in recognising as the 'Dora Bunner - companion' of Constable Legg's notes - to which the latter had added an off-the-record commentary of "Scatty!"
Miss Blacklog spoke in a pleasant well-bred voice.
"Good morning, Inspector Craddock.
This is my friend, Miss Bunner, who helps me run the house.
Won't you sit down?
You won't smoke, I suppose?"
"Not on duty, I'm afraid, Miss Blacklog."
"What a shame!"
Craddock's eyes took in the room with a quick, practised glance.
Typical Victorian double drawing-room.
Two long windows in this room, built out bay window in the other... chairs... sofa... centre table with a big bowl of chrysanthemums - another bowl in window - all fresh and pleasant without much originality.
The only incongruous note was a small silver vase with dead violets in it on a table near the archway into the further room.
Since he could not imagine Miss Blacklog tolerating dead flowers in a room, he imagined it to be the only indication that something out of the way had occurred to distract the routine of a well-run household.
He said: "I take it, Miss Blacklog, that this is the room in which the - incident occurred?"
"Yes."
"And you should have seen it last night," Miss Bunner exclaimed.
"Such a mess.
Two little tables knocked over, and the leg off one - people barging about in the dark - and someone put down a lighted cigarette and burnt one of the best bits of furniture.
People - young people especially, are so - careless about these things...
Luckily none of the china got broken -" Miss Blacklog interrupted gently but firmly:
"Dora, all these things, vexatious as they may be, are only trifles.
It will be best, I think, if we just answer Inspector Craddock's questions."
"Thank you, Miss Blacklog. I shall come to what happened last night, presently.
First of all I want you to tell me when you first saw the dead man - Rudi Scherz."
"Rudi Scherz?" Miss Blacklog looked slightly surprised.
"Is that his name?
Somehow, I thought... Oh, well, it doesn't matter.
My first encounter with him was when I was in Medenham Spa for a day's shopping about - let me see, about three weeks ago.
We - Miss Bunner and I - were having lunch at the Royal Spa Hotel.
As we were just leaving after lunch, I heard my name spoken.
It was this young man.
He said:
'It is Miss Blacklog, is it not?'
And went on to say that perhaps I did not remember him, but that he was the son of the proprietor of the Hotel des Alpes at Montreux where my sister and I had stayed for nearly a year during the war."
"The Hotel des Alpes, Montreux," noted Craddock.
"And did you remember him, Miss Blacklog?"