Lady Hereford laughed. ‘Don’t get carried away with it, Augusta. Now then, let’s try to get out of here reasonably quickly so I don’t have to speak to Isabella again. I’ve shown my face and that’s all that matters.’

  Augusta got up to manoeuvre Lady Hereford’s bath chair when a flash of movement caught her eye. Daphne was running out onto the stage in stockinged feet. She’d lifted the hem of her silver evening gown so she wouldn’t trip on it. She gripped it in both hands as she called out to the audience. Her face was shocked and pale.

  ‘Is there a doctor here?’ she cried out. ‘We need a doctor! Quickly!’

  Chapter 8

  Tramlines of dark makeup ran down Daphne’s face as she was comforted by her mother outside the changing rooms. She struggled to get her words out between gasping sobs.

  ‘I was the first one to get back to the changing rooms,’ she said. ‘I thought I was the only one in there at first and then I saw Lola there, just lying on the floor. I thought she’d fainted. But when I got closer… Oh, it was awful! The scarf was so tight around her neck…’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Lady Hereford. ‘That’s dreadful.’

  ‘It was obvious she was dead. Someone must have strangled her with the scarf she was wearing. She couldn’t have done something like that herself.’

  ‘Take one of these, Daphne,’ said her mother, holding out a bottle of pills beneath her nose. ‘It will make you feel better.’

  ‘What are they?’

  ‘Just something which will help you feel better. Go on, take one.’ Isabella tipped a little white tablet into her palm and held it up to Daphne’s mouth. ‘Just take it. Go on.’

  Her daughter kept her mouth closed.

  ‘I don’t think Daphne wants to take it,’ said Lady Hereford. ‘Tablets won’t make her feel better after what she’s just witnessed. It’s an absolute tragedy. She needs a bit of time to calm herself and cope with the enormity of what’s happened.’

  ‘Which is why she needs something to help calm her down.’

  ‘It won’t help. She’ll need her wits about her for when the police arrive.’

  ‘The police?’ said Isabella. ‘What would they want with her?’

  ‘Daphne was the first to find Lola on the floor,’ said Lady Hereford. ‘The police will want to take a statement from her. But there’s nothing to worry about, they’ll be perfectly pleasant about it, I’m sure. Augusta can tell you more about what they do. A close friend of hers used to be a detective inspector at Scotland Yard.’

  ‘I don’t want the police talking to Daphne.’

  ‘I’m afraid you don’t have any choice in the matter, my dear. They’ll speak to as many people as possible. So the best thing you can do is comfort Daphne and reassure her she’ll be alright. At least she’s still with us. Unlike her poor friend Lola.’

  Daphne burst into tears again.

  ‘Oh Daphne, that’s enough,’ said her mother. She was clearly struggling to cope with her daughter’s emotions. Augusta stepped away for a few moments to get her thoughts in order.

  They were standing in a corridor between the rink-side seating and the ladies’ changing rooms. Augusta recalled the final section of the show when all the models had appeared on the stage with Vivien Kingsley. For some reason, Lola hadn’t been on the stage with them. And someone had used that opportunity to strangle her with her scarf.

  But who? And why?

  Augusta estimated there had been two or three hundred people at the show. She tried to recall if she had noticed anyone looking out of place or acting suspiciously. But no one came to mind.

  The clue to finding the person who attacked Lola was connected to Lola herself. Augusta felt sure the model must have known her attacker. She couldn’t imagine a complete stranger entering the changing rooms and murdering whoever they found there.

  Daphne would be able to tell Augusta more about Lola, but the girl would have to endure questions from the police first. She was understandably upset, and Augusta couldn’t imagine her coping well with the interview. Although Lady Hereford had sought to reassure Isabella, Augusta knew the person who discovered a body could be considered a suspect until proven otherwise.

  Two police constables caught her eye and accompanying them was a young, fair-haired man whom she recognised.

  Detective Sergeant Joyce of Scotland Yard.

  He was the commissioner’s son and had controversially replaced Philip in a murder investigation in Westminster. Although he had irritated Augusta at the time, her feelings towards him had warmed a little since then. He was young for a detective, but he had proven himself to be calm and hardworking. She stepped forward to greet him.

  ‘Mrs Peel? This is a surprise.’

  ‘I came here for the fashion show,’ she said. ‘I accompanied my friend Lady Hereford here. Her niece, Daphne, was the person who discovered the victim.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased I’ve bumped into you, Mrs Peel. What are your first impressions?’

  ‘I’m still trying to understand exactly what happened,’ she said. ‘Lola appears to have been attacked while all the models were on the stage for the final part of the show. The person who attacked Lola must have known she was alone in the changing rooms. I don’t know why she wasn’t on the stage with everyone else.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  ‘So I think it must have been someone involved with the fashion show. They must have known everybody would go out onto the stage for the finale, leaving few people backstage. It could have been someone helping behind the scenes with clothes and makeup. Another person familiar with the format of the show would be the photographer, Cedric Langley. Lady Hereford and I spoke to him before the show, and I didn’t like him. That doesn’t mean he’s a murderer, of course.’

  ‘No, of course.’ Detective Sergeant Joyce smiled. ‘But I believe in hunches, Mrs Peel. I think detectives can judge characters quite well. I’ll have a word with him. In fact, there will be a lot of people here to speak to, so I’d better get on with it. But if you get any more ideas about this, you’ll let me know, won’t you? You already have a connection to this case, so you might see or hear something that I don’t.’

  ‘If I find out anything else, you’ll be the first to hear, Detective.’

  She returned to Lady Hereford, who was looking tired.

  ‘Shall we go now, Augusta?’

  ‘Yes.’ She took hold of the bath chair and steered Lady Hereford to the exit. Out on Holland Park Avenue, they flagged down a taxi.

  The driver was just preparing to pull away when Augusta caught sight of a man waving his arms at the car.

  ‘Is that the detective again?’ said Lady Hereford.

  Augusta opened the door and Detective Sergeant Joyce jogged up to her, slightly out of breath. ‘I’m sorry to trouble you,’ he said. ‘But I’m having difficulty speaking to Daphne Chatsworth.’

  Lady Hereford groaned.

  ‘Every time I try to speak to Miss Chatsworth, her mother answers,’ said the detective. ‘I’ve requested to speak to Miss Chatsworth on her own, but she refuses to talk to me without her mother. I’m wondering, Mrs Peel, do you mind very much sitting with Daphne while she speaks to me? Hopefully your presence will reassure them that everything will be alright.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ said Augusta. ‘But I need to ensure Lady Hereford is accompanied back to her hotel in Russell Square.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Augusta, I’ll be fine,’ said Lady Hereford.

  ‘Perhaps you will, but I insist on accompanying you.’

  ‘But you can stay here and help everyone.’

  ‘You need someone with you.’

  ‘May I suggest one of my constables accompanies Lady Hereford in your place, Mrs Peel?’ said Detective Sergeant Joyce.

  Lady Hereford laughed. ‘A police escort! I’m sure I don’t need that.’

  ‘But would you mind, Lady Hereford?’ asked Augusta.

  ‘No, of course I don’t. I’ll just go along with whatever makes this easier for everyone. As long as he’s handsome, I’m not fussy.’

  ‘I see.’ The detective didn’t seem sure how to respond to this request. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  Chapter 9

  A short while later, Augusta sat with Detective Sergeant Joyce, Daphne Chatsworth and a police sergeant in a small office at Holland Park Rink. The room had a little desk, a few wooden chairs and a tall cupboard. Photographs of roller skaters and boxers hung in cheap frames on the wall.

  ‘I realise you’re extremely upset about what’s happened to your friend, Miss Chatsworth. But it’s important that we find out what exactly you saw.’

  ‘She wasn’t a friend,’ said Daphne through tears. She had removed the streaked makeup from her face and changed into an ordinary blouse and skirt.

  ‘Would colleague be a better description than friend?’

  Daphne nodded.

  ‘Can you tell me what you saw?’

  ‘I went into the changing rooms and saw her lying on the floor. I thought she’d fainted, so I went over to her. That’s when I saw the scarf around her neck. It was pulled tight. So completely, horribly tight!’ She buried her face in a handkerchief.

  ‘I know this isn’t easy, Miss Chatsworth, but can you recall what happened before Lola was attacked? Did you see anyone running away from the changing rooms?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t see anyone.’

  ‘So when the show finished, you were the first model to return to the changing rooms?’

  ‘Yes. All the girls were on the stage for the end of the show and Miss Kingsley joined us. I actually went back to the changing rooms slightly sooner than I should have done.’

  Detective Sergeant Joyce raised an eyebrow in interest. ‘Why was that?’

  ‘My shoes were so uncomfortable. I had to take them off. But it was only a minute or so before everyone else came back.’

  ‘So you returned to the changing rooms about a minute before the other girls?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you know exactly how long?’

  ‘Yes. A minute. It was hardly any time at all.’

  ‘I’ve had a quick look in the changing rooms and seen all the trunks, cases and racks of clothing in there,’ said the detective. ‘Do you think it’s possible the culprit could have hidden there?’

  ‘What a horrid thought!’

  ‘Do you think it’s possible?’

  ‘I suppose it could be. He could have been hiding there. And that could explain why I didn’t see anyone running away. He could have still been in there when I found Lola!’

  ‘Possibly.’

  ‘How scary!’

  ‘Did you see anyone acting suspiciously near the changing rooms?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was there anyone who seemed out of place? Anyone who you thought shouldn’t have been there?’

  ‘No. It was just everyone involved with the show.’

  ‘Tell me who was involved with the show.’

  ‘Obviously there’s Miss Kingsley. Then all the models. And a couple of ladies who helped us with our clothes and makeup.’

  ‘Where were the two ladies when Lola was attacked?’

  ‘They were watching the final part of the show when Miss Kingsley went out onto the stage.’

  ‘So they weren’t in the changing room?’

  Daphne shook her head.

  ‘I’d like to ask a question if I may, Detective,’ said Augusta.

  ‘Go ahead, Mrs Peel.’

  She turned to Daphne who looked at her with large, mournful eyes. ‘Why wasn’t Lola on the stage with the rest of you?’

  ‘I think she was probably sulking.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘She sulked a lot. That’s what she was like.’

  ‘Did anything happen this afternoon which gave her a reason to sulk?’ asked Detective Sergeant Joyce.

  ‘She had an argument with Sylvia.’

  ‘Did you witness the argument?’

  ‘Yes. We all did.’

  ‘What was it about?’

  ‘It was just Lola being silly. Miss Kingsley made her and Sylvia swap dresses. She thought Sylvia would look better in the pink beaded dress, so Lola had to wear the green dress Sylvia had been wearing and she didn’t like it.’

  ‘Does Miss Kingsley often change her mind about who wears which outfit?’

  ‘Yes, all the time! She’s made me change lots of times and it doesn’t bother me.’

  ‘But it bothered Lola.’

  ‘Yes. After Miss Kingsley made them swap, Lola then tried to persuade Sylvia to swap back again. She said Miss Kingsley wouldn’t notice. Sylvia refused and Lola said she didn’t want to go out in front of everyone wearing the green dress. I thought she looked fine. She was just making a fuss. And then she sulked because she didn’t get her own way.’

  ‘Was it common for Sylvia and Lola to argue?’

  ‘Not really. But I suppose we can all get a bit jealous sometimes. Everyone wants the best outfit, and everyone wants to feel good about what they’re wearing. It can be difficult to show the clothes well if you’re not comfortable with what you’re wearing. I don’t think Miss Kingsley should have made Lola and Sylvia swap dresses like she did, but she’s the one in charge, so people need to do what she says. If it had happened to me, then I think I would have been annoyed. I can understand why Lola was upset, but she should have just got on with it and walked out for the final part of the show like everyone else.’

  ‘So all the models went onto the stage for the final part of the show,’ said Detective Sergeant Joyce. ‘And the two women who helped with makeup and clothes went out to watch. Miss Kingsley also joined you all on the stage?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did she walk onto the stage with everyone else?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I add something which I observed?’ said Augusta.

  ‘Of course, Mrs Peel.’

  ‘Miss Kingsley walked onto the stage after all the models.’

  ‘So she was last on?’ said the detective. He turned to Daphne. ‘Do you know where Miss Kingsley was before she joined you all on the stage?’

  ‘In the changing rooms,’ said Daphne.

  A pause followed. Detective Sergeant Joyce and the police sergeant exchanged a glance.

  ‘So, just to be certain,’ said the detective, ‘Miss Kingsley and Lola were alone together in the changing rooms before Miss Kingsley joined you on the stage?’

  Daphne nodded.

  ‘How long for?’

  ‘A few minutes. Long enough for us all to walk out there and stand in our places.’

  Detective Sergeant Joyce turned to Augusta. ‘Would you agree it was a few minutes, Mrs Peel?’

  ‘Yes. That seems about right.’

  Augusta wondered if it had been long enough for Vivien Kingsley to attack Lola. Was it possible the fashion designer had been angry about the young woman’s sulky attitude? It was difficult to believe she would have murdered her for that reason.

  Chapter 10

  ‘I hope you haven’t been accusing my daughter of anything!’ Mrs Chatsworth said to Detective Sergeant Joyce as they stepped out of the office.

  ‘No, I haven’t accused your daughter of anything at all,’ said the detective. ‘I’ve just been trying to get a better understanding of what happened here this afternoon.’

  ‘You need to catch the man who did this.’ She grabbed Daphne’s arm and pulled her closer. ‘It’s unsafe for these young women to be here when there’s a murderer on the loose.’

  ‘We’re doing all we can to find out the person who did this.’ He turned to Daphne. ‘Thank you very much for your help, Miss Chatsworth. I realise this isn’t an easy time for you.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’ She pulled out her handkerchief again and wiped her eyes.

  ‘You probably need to go home and get some rest now, Daphne,’ said Augusta. ‘You’ve helped the police a lot this afternoon.’

  ‘You were talking to her for ages,’ said Mrs Chatsworth. ‘I don’t understand why it had to take so long. Come along, Daphne. Let’s get back.’ She pulled her daughter’s arm and guided her towards the exit.

  Augusta and Detective Sergeant Joyce watched them leave.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Peel, for your help just then.’

  ‘I’m not sure I did much.’

  ‘Yes, you did. Your presence alone was enough to encourage Miss Chatsworth to talk.’

  ‘Hopefully it was useful. I assume you’re going to interview Vivien Kingsley?’

  ‘Yes. It looks like she was alone with Lola in the changing rooms. I’ll speak to her next and find out what she has to say for herself. Everyone’s making a good show of being upset here. But the reality is one of them could be a murderer.’

  Chapter 11

  ‘Well, that sounds horrific,’ said Philip when Augusta told him about the murder at the fashion show that evening. They sat in his office drinking tea, although Augusta felt the need for something a little stronger. ‘And someone committed the atrocity right under everyone’s noses!’ he added.

  ‘I don’t think many people would have the audacity to do such a thing,’ said Augusta.

  ‘No, they wouldn’t. This person is brazen and cruel. What have you learned about Lola?’

  ‘Very little. She and Daphne don’t appear to have been friends, so I don’t think Daphne knows much about her either. Lola had a disagreement with another model when they were told to swap outfits. Lola wasn’t happy about what she was wearing and that’s the reason why she didn’t go on the stage.’

  ‘So the perpetrator must have been close by,’ said Philip. ‘They must have known Lola wasn’t going onto the stage and would be in the changing rooms by herself. What’s Daphne like?’

  ‘It’s difficult to tell. Lady Hereford told me she was spoiled and prone to whining. I only encountered her when she was very upset about the murder, so she wasn’t at her best. Her mother seemed difficult too, but I suspect that’s because she was in shock as well. I’d like to meet Daphne again once she’s calmed down a little.’

 

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