Chapter Twelve
‘What do you mean, he’s upset Simon?’ asked Angela.
‘Oh, he just kept on asking him questions about where he was and what he was doing during those fifteen minutes,’ said Joan, throwing her hands up in despair. ‘Just because he is conscientious about doing his work properly, the police seem to think he must be a murderer! It’s not his fault if he was out of the room when Neville was k—killed. And now I don’t know where he’s gone and I’m so afraid he might have done something silly. He’s not strong. He can’t cope with this sort of thing.’
She burst into tears as she spoke. Angela went to comfort her.
‘Don’t cry, darling,’ she said. ‘He wouldn’t do anything silly, I’m sure.’
‘But I’ve looked all over the house!’ wailed Joan.
‘He’s probably gone out for a walk in the grou
