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s face softening immediately, childlike, “and please forgive my lack of manners. If you would like to come through to the conservatory, I shall make fresh tea for us all.”
Gardener suspected he was being manipulated because of the sudden change in Corndell’s manner. He told Reilly to join Corndell whilst the tea was made, not to let him out of his sight. Gardener stayed in the conservatory. Eventually, both returned.
“Now then, gentlemen, I’ll pour the tea and you feel free to ask me anything you like.”
All three sat down and Gardener removed his hat. “Where were you last night?”
“You know very well where I was,” replied Corndell, sliding their tea across the table.
“After the show.”
“You turned up here wanting to speak to me, but I wouldn’t let you in.”
“I know where I was. I’m asking you where you were. Answer the question.”
“Of course. I was here, Mr Gardener, where else would I be? Has something happened?” Corndell banged the teapot on the table and stood up. “Has someone else been murdered, and you want me for a scapegoat?”
“Such a vivid imagination, Willie boy,” said Reilly. “No wonder you write scripts.”
Gardener ignored Corndell’s question. “Perhaps your CCTV will show us what time you arrived back at the house, Mr Corndell?”
“It would if it was working.”
“Oh, well now, isn’t that convenient?” said Reilly. “Your closed-circuit TV system is on the blink the night you need to prove your innocence.”
Corndell took a sip of his tea. “I beg to differ, Mr Reilly. It is you who has something to prove, not me.”
Another condescending reply that made Gardener’s skin crawl. As far as he was concerned, the man had guilt written all over his face, but what they lacked was concrete evidence. And at the rate they were going, they would never find it. “What’s wrong with your CCTV?” he asked.
“That’s a silly question, Mr Gardener. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have called them out.”
“Name of the company, please.”
Corndell left the room but returned quickly, with a card.
Gardener read it, put it in his pocket, and then continued. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about our previous meeting... in particular, your phones.”
“What about them?” replied Corndell.
“According to the information we have, you don’t have a mobile number, and you’ve only received one call to your landline in the last ten years.”
“Am I under arrest?” asked Corndell.
“No.”
“Suspicion, then?”
“The very nature of your business means we have to carry out a detailed investigation,” replied Gardener, before adding, “if for no other reason than to eliminate you from our enquiries.”
“Perhaps it would be better if I phoned my solicitor, Mr Gardener.”
“Something to hide, Willie? Use your mobile, why don’t you?” suggested Reilly.
To Gardener’s astonishment, that’s exactly what Corndell did. He picked up his mobile and placed a call through to his solicitor and asked him to return the call when it was convenient.
“Give me that number,” Gardener demanded.
Corndell did as he was asked and wrote the number down. He passed it to Reilly, who placed the slip of paper into his pocket.
