‘Alibis,’ said Ellie.
‘Exactly so,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘And while you’re doing all that, you need to fathom out why someone wanted her dead. If we’re assuming it was a deliberate act and not a terrible accident, then someone wanted to kill someone. Was it her they wanted to kill? Or did they just want to kill anybody who happened to be there at the time? And if it was her, then why? Why pick poor Blanche Adams?’
‘Motive,’ said Ellie.
‘You’re well up on the terminology,’ said Flo with a smile.
‘I learned from the best. I have a dear friend who solves mysteries for fun.’
‘But there must be a million different motives for murder,’ said Dunn. ‘How do we even start?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Although you can boil it down to three for most practical purposes: passion, money, and the need to cover up another crime. Outside those, you have the motiveless killings of the madman, but he’s a last resort – most killers kill for a reason.’
‘And we can find all this out by talking to people?’ said Skins.
‘That and a bit of poking about where you’re not wanted,’ said Flo. ‘That’s my favourite bit.’
‘Talking of which,’ said Ellie, ‘have you had any luck with your newspaper contacts? Any new gen on the treasure?’
‘Not yet. I’ve put out some feelers, but no responses so far.’
‘What’s all this?’ said Skins.
‘We know someone at the Bristol News,’ said Flo. ‘I asked if she wouldn’t mind calling in some favours to get some of her London newspaper pals to have a look through their archives. You know – see if there was anything about the 1805 robbery. I told her what we already know and she had a few ideas for other things we could look for. General articles about the club, that sort of thing. There might be clues in there no one has ever noticed.’
‘We appreciate you going to so much effort on our behalf,’ said Ellie. ‘Don’t we, boys?’
‘We do,’ said the boys together.
‘In the meantime,’ said Dunn, ‘it’s just talking to people and “poking about”? Sounds like a lot of work.’
‘It is, dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘That’s why I suggested leaving it to the police. They have the patience and the manpower for all that sort of thing.’
‘If they get round to it,’ said Skins.
‘Well, quite. We shall have to call at Scotland Yard before we leave and see if dear Insp— dear Superintendent Sunderland can shed any light on the identity of the investigating officer and why he might be dragging his feet.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ellie.
‘You do have one advantage over them, though,’ Lady Hardcastle said. ‘You knew the victim well. You worked with her for . . . how long?’
‘Band’s been together since ’23,’ said Skins, ‘but we bumped into her here and there before that. The jazz world is quite small. So two years of working together and a few odd days before that.’
‘We only met her a couple of times, I think. She seemed nice enough. What was she really like?’ asked Flo.
‘She was a bit of a girl. Not anyone’s idea of a shrinking violet. She never talked about her past much, but I know she was a Fanny in the war. Posh family, I always assumed. But she knew what she liked and wasn’t afraid of going out and getting it, if you know what I mean.’
‘I think I can remember,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘I think some people were a bit intimidated by her, to be honest,’ said Dunn. ‘She wasn’t rude, but she didn’t hold back.’
‘So she could have upset someone,’ said Flo.
‘Maybe,’ said Skins. ‘But she wasn’t that sort. She shocked a few people in her time, but she was never rude.’
‘Sublime player,’ said Dunn. ‘It was like it came from somewhere deep inside her. Like you could hear her soul breathing out through her saxophone.’
‘She sounds like a remarkable woman,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘She was,’ said Skins.
It fell to Flo to break the contemplative silence that followed. ‘Have we met all the other members of your band?’
‘Do you really think it could be one of them?’ said Skins.
‘No idea. I’m just interested, that’s all. We got the lowdown on the Alphabet Gang when we spoke to Sunderland, but I wanted to add the band to my mental list.’
‘I think you probably have. There’s me and him, obviously.’
‘Best rhythm section in London,’ she said with a smile.
‘You better believe it. Then there’s Elk – Jonathan Elkington – on banjo. We first met him in France in ’17. His battalion had sent a few blokes to a big concert at the rear and we put together a scratch band. Nice bloke. Tiny bit . . . gormless, but he’s all right. We bumped into him again when we were putting the band together and he’s been with us ever since.’
‘Could he kill?’
‘We can all kill,’ said Dunn. ‘We learned that the hard way.’
‘All right,’ said Flo. ‘Could he kill in cold blood?’
‘No,’ said Skins. ‘Not Elk. Soft as puddin’. Hasn’t got a nasty bone in his body.’
Flo smiled but said nothing.
‘Eustace Taylor plays trumpet,’ said Dunn. ‘He’s a snob, but he’s harmless.’
‘A snob?’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘Classically trained, or so he says. He played with some symphony orchestra down on the coast, we know that much for sure. He thinks he understands jazz better than the rest of us because he knows a diminished ninth from a paradiddle. Puddle has forgotten more than he’s ever learned, but that doesn’t stop him lording it over her, an’ all.’
‘Puddle?’ said Flo.
‘Isabella Puddephatt.’
‘Oh, I say,’ said Lady Hardcastle gleefully. ‘What an absolutely delightful name.’
‘Delightful girl,’ said Skins. ‘Plays clarinet and alto sax. And she definitely is classically trained. Royal College of Music, if you please. Another posh girl. Posher than us, any rate.’
‘And are either of them killers?’ said Flo.
‘Eustace is shy and insecure,’ said Dunn. ‘He might lash out if he’d finally had enough.’
‘“Had enough”?’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘Did Blanche bully him? You said she was a forthright woman. Did she pick on him?’
‘Everyone’s had a go at him at some time or other,’ said Skins. ‘He’s that sort of bloke. He provokes people.’
‘Except you,’ said Dunn. ‘He doesn’t seem to get to you.’
‘Nothing much gets to Ivor,’ said Ellie.
Skins laughed. ‘Where’s the profit in getting worked up over what other people do? I can’t control it, so why let it bother me? But I don’t think Blanche ever had a go at Eustace.’
‘She backed down the other day, though, remember? I can’t think what she said, but she apologized straight after. Maybe he’d warned her off after some other thing we never saw.’