the house, it never occurred to me …’
‘You went round to his flat in Shepherd’s Bush Road on Tuesday night? What time was that?’
‘It was just after ten to seven. I rang the bell and waited for him to answer, but he didn’t. That’s when I looked at my watch, to see if I was on time. I waited until seven exactly, in case he had been in the bathroom, perhaps, and rang again. When there was still no answer, I stepped back to the edge of the pavement and looked up, and saw there was no light in any of the windows. So I thought he must have forgotten, or gone out and been delayed, or had something urgent come up, so I went home. I telephoned later from home but there was no answer. I expected him to ring me the next day and apologize – he was punctilious about such things. But when I walked down to the corner shop yesterday afternoon to get some milk, I saw the item in the newspaper. I was so shocked, I had to go straight home and have a cup of tea and lie down. And then, in the middle of the night, I woke up wondering whether I ought to tell anyone that I’d been there. Not that there’s anything I can tell you, really, but I thought it might be useful to know that there was no answer to the doorbell at seven o’clock. A terminus ante quem , so to speak.’ He gave a faint, apologetic smile. ‘I am rather fond of golden age detective stories.’
He stopped. Talking seemed to have steadied him, and he looked less shaky.
‘You did quite right to come in,’ Slider said. ‘What were you going to see Mr Bygod about?’
‘Oh, just a social meeting. He was going to cook supper – he enjoyed cooking – and then we planned to play a little piquet. We’re both keen card players. We used to play bridge together regularly until my wife died two years ago, and at about the same time his partner, who was quite an elderly person, went to live in Northampton with his son and daughter-in-law, so our little meetings lapsed.’
‘His partner?’ Slider queried.
Plumptre gave him a questioning look. ‘Bridge partner,’ he elucidated. ‘It’s harder than you might think to find an agreeable person to play with, someone at the right level of skill who takes the game seriously enough but not too seriously. So we rather gave up bridge. Since then, when we meet, just the two of us, for cards, we play piquet, or sometimes bezique.’
‘How long have you known Mr Bygod?’
‘Oh, it must be ten or eleven years now.’ He looked to see if Slider wanted more, and seeing his receptive look, went on conversationally: ‘We first met at a Residents’ Association meeting. He’d just moved into the area. We got talking, and took a liking to each other. He said he wanted to busy himself with useful things now he’d retired, so I persuaded him to volunteer for the Home Visit Club – it’s a charity I’m involved with. You visit housebound people and read to them, or talk, or do little errands, whatever they want. He helped with the office work, too. And it went on from there. He got himself involved in local campaigns, and charity things. Various committees. We’re both collectors for the Royal British Legion. I suppose there isn’t much charitable or volunteer work around the area that he isn’t involved in. He’s that kind of man – a genuine pillar of the community.’
In his enthusiasm he had slipped back into the present tense, and his face was relaxed and happy. He’d forgotten why he was talking about Bygod, here and now.
‘You haven’t mentioned a wife. Was he married?’
‘No – well, never since I’ve known him. I don’t know much about his life before that. He didn’t talk about himself, really. But he never mentioned a wife.’
‘What about family?’
Plumptre shook his head. ‘I never knew he had any. He never mentioned anyone.’
‘So you can’t help us with who his next of kin might be?’
‘Oh dear, I’m afraid not.’ He put a hand to his cheek. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me
‘You went round to his flat in Shepherd’s Bush Road on Tuesday night? What time was that?’
‘It was just after ten to seven. I rang the bell and waited for him to answer, but he didn’t. That’s when I looked at my watch, to see if I was on time. I waited until seven exactly, in case he had been in the bathroom, perhaps, and rang again. When there was still no answer, I stepped back to the edge of the pavement and looked up, and saw there was no light in any of the windows. So I thought he must have forgotten, or gone out and been delayed, or had something urgent come up, so I went home. I telephoned later from home but there was no answer. I expected him to ring me the next day and apologize – he was punctilious about such things. But when I walked down to the corner shop yesterday afternoon to get some milk, I saw the item in the newspaper. I was so shocked, I had to go straight home and have a cup of tea and lie down. And then, in the middle of the night, I woke up wondering whether I ought to tell anyone that I’d been there. Not that there’s anything I can tell you, really, but I thought it might be useful to know that there was no answer to the doorbell at seven o’clock. A terminus ante quem , so to speak.’ He gave a faint, apologetic smile. ‘I am rather fond of golden age detective stories.’
He stopped. Talking seemed to have steadied him, and he looked less shaky.
‘You did quite right to come in,’ Slider said. ‘What were you going to see Mr Bygod about?’
‘Oh, just a social meeting. He was going to cook supper – he enjoyed cooking – and then we planned to play a little piquet. We’re both keen card players. We used to play bridge together regularly until my wife died two years ago, and at about the same time his partner, who was quite an elderly person, went to live in Northampton with his son and daughter-in-law, so our little meetings lapsed.’
‘His partner?’ Slider queried.
Plumptre gave him a questioning look. ‘Bridge partner,’ he elucidated. ‘It’s harder than you might think to find an agreeable person to play with, someone at the right level of skill who takes the game seriously enough but not too seriously. So we rather gave up bridge. Since then, when we meet, just the two of us, for cards, we play piquet, or sometimes bezique.’
‘How long have you known Mr Bygod?’
‘Oh, it must be ten or eleven years now.’ He looked to see if Slider wanted more, and seeing his receptive look, went on conversationally: ‘We first met at a Residents’ Association meeting. He’d just moved into the area. We got talking, and took a liking to each other. He said he wanted to busy himself with useful things now he’d retired, so I persuaded him to volunteer for the Home Visit Club – it’s a charity I’m involved with. You visit housebound people and read to them, or talk, or do little errands, whatever they want. He helped with the office work, too. And it went on from there. He got himself involved in local campaigns, and charity things. Various committees. We’re both collectors for the Royal British Legion. I suppose there isn’t much charitable or volunteer work around the area that he isn’t involved in. He’s that kind of man – a genuine pillar of the community.’
In his enthusiasm he had slipped back into the present tense, and his face was relaxed and happy. He’d forgotten why he was talking about Bygod, here and now.
‘You haven’t mentioned a wife. Was he married?’
‘No – well, never since I’ve known him. I don’t know much about his life before that. He didn’t talk about himself, really. But he never mentioned a wife.’
‘What about family?’
Plumptre shook his head. ‘I never knew he had any. He never mentioned anyone.’
‘So you can’t help us with who his next of kin might be?’
‘Oh dear, I’m afraid not.’ He put a hand to his cheek. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me
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