So the diary was produced and Larose ran quickly through the fortnight preceding the doctor’s death. “Well, your father doesn’t seem to have done much,” he remarked after a minute or two, “just staying at home, a couple of afternoons fishing, one garden party and a few motor rides. About these rides, did you go visiting anyone?”
“No, Father wasn’t fond of society. We nearly always went somewhere where we could get down to the sea. We would stroll along the shore and, as often as not, I had a bathe. I don’t remember that we talked to anyone.”
Larose tapped the diary he was holding in his hand. “But I see that twice you didn’t go in the car with your father and that he went alone.”
The girl corrected him. “No, not alone. Webber, our chauffeur who is also the gardener, drove him. Father ne
