The elderly butler tried to keep up. “He gave me explicit instructions not to be disturbed.”
Gardener was tiring of the old butler. He gave Reilly a nod. The butler was thin and wiry and at a guess, seventy years old, with white hair and a complexion similar to stiffened grey cardboard. Reilly placed a hand on the butler’s shoulder. “Listen, Jeeves, I’m sure it’ll look a lot better if you disturb him. You get my drift?”
The butler nodded. “I’ll see to it, sir.”
When they were finally allowed to see Summers, he was sitting at a cluttered desk enshrouded by smoke. Gardener reached the middle of the room and smelled perfume. He wondered who had visited and how they had left. As he glanced around, his eyes came to rest on a door in the corner, which he had somehow failed to notice on his previous visit.
“I find this intrusion highly irregular, Mr Gardener. You’d better have good reason.”
“There’d be little point being here if I hadn’t.” Gardener sat down, removed his hat, and waved away the smoke around his head. Reilly remained standing. “There have been further developments. I have more questions for you.”
“I’ve told you everything I know.”
“I doubt that very much,” replied Gardener, silently seething. “Which is why I have a search and seize warrant for your premises and your books.”
The expression on the agent’s face could have frozen an active volcano. His pupils dilated. Gardener felt as though he was staring down a double-barrel shotgun. The cigar on which Summers had been about to take a drag remained motionless in mid-air. “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. I have two officers in a squad car outside, with two men from forensics. I also have a search warrant for your premises.” Gardener handed it to Summers for inspection.
“This is outrageous! I don’t know what you think you’ll find.”
“For your sake, I should hope nothing.”
“I will, of course, seek legal advice, Mr Gardener.”
“Feel free,” Gardener smiled. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like the team to make a start, and I’d like you to answer my questions.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not at all, you’re helping with enquiries,” Gardener said as he left the room. He went out to the squad cars and motioned for the forensics team to begin. He then rejoined Reilly and Summers in the study, continuing on as if he never left. “Last night, Mr Summers, where were you?”
Summers re-lit his cigar. “Attending a Christmas dinner hosted by the Entertainment Agents Association.”
“Where? What time did it start and finish?” Gardener asked.
“The Queens Hotel in Leeds. Started about six-thirty. Finished around midnight.”
“Were you with anyone?” asked Reilly.
“No, I went alone.”
“How convenient,” Reilly sneered.
“Did you stay all evening? Where did you go once you left?” asked Gardener.
“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. I left at eight. I didn’t feel too well. I came straight home.”
“And your butler can verify your return?”
Summers hesitated. “No, I gave him the night off.”
Gardener wondered why he paused. “So, you went out for the evening, alone. You took ill, came home alone to an empty house. Spent the rest of the evening how? By yourself?”
“I don’t like your implications, Mr Gardener.”
“And I don’t like your answers, Mr Summers. Were you by yourself for the rest of the evening?”
“Yes, but before I went to bed, I had a phone call from the chairman of the association. Checking on my health, you understand. I’m sure the phone company’ll have a record of the call.”