fter the coffee and sandwiches, Inspector Walsh called Roger Clarkson to the office. Roger came in and sat down. The Inspector began at once.

'Now, Mr Clarkson. Why was your mother angry with you last night?'

'This house is very big,' Roger said. 'It was a lot of work for Mother. I wanted her to move. But no, she loved this house and garden. She didn't want to move.'

'Tell me about your job, Mr Clarkson. Your mother is dead and now you're rich. Do you need money?'

Roger's face was suddenly afraid. 'What are you saying? I didn't kill my mother. I need money, that's true. A friend and I want to build ten houses here, in this garden. We can get a lot of money for them. So I wanted Mother to sell this house. It's true. But Mr Briggs wanted half the garden, too, you know, for his farm.'

Inspector Walsh moved a pencil on the table. 'Tell me, what happened upstairs? You went to your mother's room?'

'Yes, I did. I wanted to say goodnight to my mother.'

'Did you talk about the house again?'

'Yes, I did. Again, she said no. She loved the house and didn't want to sell it.'

Inspector Walsh watched Roger for a minute. 'I see. We found the empty bottle of sleeping tablets, Mr Clarkson, in Diane's room.'

Roger's face did not change. 'Oh? Someone put them there. Diane did not kill my mother, I know that. She found the body.'

'Very well. I would like to see Diane next.'

Roger got up and left the room.

Inspector Walsh stood up and put his hands in his pockets. He went to the window and looked out at the trees. Why was Roger Clarkson afraid? Was it important? He looked at Sergeant Foster.

'Tomorrow morning, go to Mr Clarkson's office – you have the name,' he said.

‘Ask some questions about him, about his job, friends, money.'

Sergeant Foster wrote it down. 'Yes, Inspector.'

'A good day for tennis, Sergeant?'

Sergeant Foster laughed. 'Don't say that. It's not easy, you know. I don't like sitting here looking at the sun.'

Diane came into the room and sat down. She looked at Sergeant Foster and smiled. 'I saw you at the Tennis Club last month, I think. You play very well.'

Sergeant Foster's face went red. Inspector Walsh looked at him. 'Oh yes. A fast and exciting player is Sergeant Foster.'

Diane smiled again at Sergeant Foster and his face went redder.

'Well, Miss Clarkson,' Inspector Walsh said, 'I want you to talk about last night.'

Diane stopped smiling. 'Oh, I can talk about last night. I can't stop talking about it. We were all angry. Mother went to bed early and I made hot milk for her. We were all in the kitchen, and Peter Hobbs came in. He nearly broke the back door down.' Diane stopped.

'Yes?'

'He was very angry about a letter. He wanted to kill Mother. Are you going to talk to him?'

'We're going to talk to everyone.'

'Good. Tom Briggs came into the kitchen, too. Are you going to talk to him?'

'I'm asking the questions, Miss Clarkson. When did you take the milk upstairs?'

'I went up after Roger.' She stopped for a minute. Then she began again. 'I didn't like my mother, Inspector. She killed my father, you know. Last winter, after Christmas, she drove the car into a tree and killed my father.'

Inspector Walsh watched Diane's face carefully. 'I see. So you wanted to kill your mother?'

Diane laughed. 'I wanted to kill her, but I didn't. I can tell you a lot of things about this family, Inspector. Everyone wanted Mother to die. Uncle Albert wanted her money for his wife, Annie. And then my brother.

He needs a lot of money. He has an expensive house and an expensive car. And think of Jackie. Do you know that Jackie didn't like Mother? A long time ago, a nice boy worked here. He was the gardener. Jackie loved him very much, but Mother said no. A gardener was not a good husband for a Clarkson girl!'

Inspector Walsh listened quietly. All this was very interesting but was it important? Perhaps. What a happy family the Clarksons were!

'We found the empty bottle of sleeping tablets in your room,' Inspector Walsh said quietly. He watched her face carefully.

Diane stood up suddenly, her face angry. 'What? I didn't put it there! I'm not going to listen to this!' She ran out of the room.

'Well, well, well,' Inspector Walsh said. 'She likes you, Sergeant. You need to be careful.'

Sergeant Foster laughed but his face went red again.

'Someone put sleeping tablets in Molly's hot milk,' the Inspector said. 'All the family were in the kitchen last night. Peter Hobbs and Tom Briggs were there, too. One of them killed Molly.'

Inspector Walsh got his hat and coat. 'Come on. We need to talk to Peter Hobbs and Tom Briggs. Let's get some more coffee first. I'd like a sandwich, too. I'm hungry again!'