Delia let out a mournful little sigh. “Anyway, I opened the door and—”
“It was unlocked?”
“Yes. Charlie always left the door unlocked if he knew I was coming. That way I could slip in as quickly as possible.”
“And avoid being seen,” I added. Delia glanced away with a sheepish nod. It also would have made things exceptionally easier for the killer. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound so judgemental. Only I … I’m worried for you.”
“I understand,” she said after a moment, then met my eyes. “I’ve been a bit reckless lately. And I know Mother is upset with me. I’m sure she gave you an earful last night.”
“She did,” I admitted. Had that only been last night? It seemed like an age ago. “But given what’s now happened, I can’t say I blame her.” Delia grimaced in response. “What did you do after you entered?”
“I don’t know. It all happened so quickly.”
“Give it a think,” I said gently.
Delia sighed and shut her eyes for a moment. “I called out to him while I took off my coat and hat. I assumed he was inhis study. That’s where he spent most of his time. I noticed the light on, so I walked towards the room. And then …”
“You found him,” I finished. Delia choked back a sob and nodded.
“I knelt down beside him. I tried to help, but the blood—”
“I know. It’s all right,” I soothed. “There was nothing anyone could have done for him, Delia. You must believe me.” Her glistening eyes were full of pain, and she managed a nod. “Back at home, you told me you were frightened,” I continued. “That you may have heard something.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes. It sounded like someone was in the flat moving around, but I was in such a panic, I could have misheard.”
“Or not. The killer may have still been here when you entered, then left while you were in the study.”
Which meant that, if she had been just a few minutes earlier, Delia would have interrupted the murder—and possibly become a victim herself.
Delia seemed to share my thoughts and shuddered. “My God.”
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door, and we both jumped.
“That must be the police,” I said, trying to sound calm, even while my heart pounded in my chest. “You wait here. Let me do the talking.” Delia made no argument as I headed for the entryway.
I opened the door and was surprised to find a single, rather bored-looking constable. “Hello.”
“Good evening, ma’am,” he said with a tip of his hat. “We received a call about a body.”
“Yes, that was me. Do come in.”
The constable entered the flat, but seemed far more interested in the treasures on display.
“It is our friend,” I said. “He’s just back there in the study.”
The constable looked dubious. “You’re sure he’s dead? You know, ma’am, sometimes a fellow has too much to drink and just needs a bit of sleep.”
“Yes. I’m quite certain,” I gritted out. Of all the possible scenarios, I had never imagined the police would actually question the very existence of a dead body.
Yet, the constable did not appear convinced, but proceeded down the hall while I waited. After a few moments, I heard a low whistle, which I assume meant he had seen Charles for himself. Then he returned clicking his tongue.
“Terrible business,” he muttered. “And you say you found him like that?”
“Yes,” I said tersely.
“All right. I’ll have to contact the Yard and have them send the detective over,” he replied, as if this was a great inconvenience and not hisjob. “Do you mind if I use your telephone?”
“Not at all. I will wait in the parlor with my sister.”
