Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

them could have had a grievance. We have to find out what that was, and who had the nerve to risk committing such a public crime.’
    The interviewing strategy was agreed, tasks were allotted and the actors were asked for their statements. Those who had not been on stage at the time of the murder were questioned first and allowed to leave. Actors playing the conspirators were given a more thorough investigation.
    The police began with Derek Jarvis. He was attempting to remain calm. ‘If I’d known they were going to start murdering each other I would have put them all in togas,’ he complained. ‘There would be so much more evidence. I should have thought about it in advance, I suppose, but you can hardly expect something like this to happen.’
    ‘Was there any tension between members of the cast in rehearsal?’ Inspector Keating asked.
    ‘There’s always tension. Lord Teversham certainly made a meal of everything and he never listened to what anyone else was saying. It’s a pity I cast him but I thought he had the right gravitas.’
    ‘Did you witness the death?’
    ‘Of course. I was watching from the front. It was as if I had directed the whole thing.’
    ‘And you saw nothing unusual?’
    ‘No. It unfolded like a nightmare:
    “Between the acting of a dreadful thing
    And the first motion, all the interim is
    Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream . . .”
    Who would have thought the play should be so apt? You could almost think I had chosen it deliberately.’
    ‘I’m sure it’s not your fault.’
    ‘I provided an opportunity. It will be on my conscience.’
    ‘Then let us help ease it by finding the person responsible. I am going to need all your help on this, Jarvis.’
    ‘We’re going to need each other,’ the coroner replied, looking at Sidney. ‘And we’ll have to be at the top of our game because I think whoever did this must have been planning it for weeks.’
    Keating leaned forward, with both hands resting on the table. ‘You mean he could have joined the cast specifically in order to murder Lord Teversham?’
    ‘It is a possibility.’
    Sidney thought this through. ‘Someone who has never appeared in amateur theatricals before?’
    Keating snapped. ‘I don’t think he means you.’
    The coroner left to make preparations for the post-mortem and the investigators turned their attention to Clive Morton, the local solicitor, who had played Casca. He had changed into his usual blazer and flannelled trousers. ‘I don’t know why you need to ask me any questions,’ he began. ‘I stabbed him in the back. Lord Teversham fell forwards and the others did the rest. I can hardly be a suspect.’
    ‘We are not saying that you are,’ Keating replied. ‘But perhaps you saw something else?’
    ‘It’s hard to think. We are all shocked. It must have happened so fast. We were at it hammer and tongs. Derek Jarvis told us that in order to get into the mood we should remember the war and imagine that Lord Teversham was a Nazi who had killed our children. That certainly did the trick.’
    ‘Did you get carried away?’
    ‘I admit that I stabbed him a couple more times for effect. I wanted to be seen to be doing something.’
    ‘And did you notice anything else? A real blade, blood, anyone acting suspiciously?’
    ‘We were all acting suspiciously, Inspector, if you can call it acting. That was the point.’
    ‘And can you think of anyone who might want to kill Lord Teversham?’
    ‘No one at all.’
    ‘You were his lawyer?’
    ‘I was.’
    ‘And you have heard or seen nothing untoward; either on stage or off?’
    ‘I am afraid I have not. I suppose, when the time comes, you will probably want to have a look at the will.’
    ‘The time has come, Mr Morton.’
    ‘Then I will bring it to you first thing tomorrow morning, which is almost upon us. Do you think I could go?’
    ‘Provided you come to the station in the morning.’
    ‘I am at your service.’
    Inspector Keating summoned Michel Morel, the French chef, a thin, vain man who was wearing a black polo-necked jumper under his suit. ‘In France this does not happen,’ he began. ‘We are careful in our passions. When people are angry they drink some wine and they find another woman. We do not kill each other like this. It is not good. Have you discovered the correct knife?’
    ‘All the stage weapons have been returned. They are blunt.’
    The chef was unsurprised. ‘Of course. They would be of no use in a