‘What puzzles us is this: Robert Kramer is a collector of Punch and Judy memorabilia. Bit of a coincidence that you are, too, isn’t it?’
‘I’m not,’ Maltby said. ‘I bought the doll for Robert while I was buying the rest of the props for the play. That way it goes through the business books. They’re rare and very expensive.’
‘Kramer already has a complete set of puppets.’
‘Not true. There’s no single agreed set of characters. The productions varied across the centuries and the only surviving sets that match are in museums and private collections. They hardly ever come up for auction. The only way to collect them now is to buy the characters piecemeal. Mr Granville had heard of an original Hangman going, so I obtained it for Robert.’ She looked from one detective to the other. ‘I’m assuming this has something to do with the death of Robert’s son?’
‘A puppet of the Hangman was found beside Gregory Baine. Nobody’s told you?’
‘I had no idea. What happened?’
‘He was found hanging under Cannon Street Bridge.’
‘I assume he killed himself.’ She sounded curious but not surprised.
‘Why would you think that?’
‘Everyone knows he has money worries. He asked for a loan, but Robert turned him down.’
‘Where were you Wednesday night?’
‘Here at home, by myself.’
‘Where did you last see the puppet?’
‘In Robert’s office at the theatre. I think he intended to keep it there. It was certainly there on Monday, before the party.’
‘You’re quite close with Robert, aren’t you?’
‘It pays to be. He employs me.’
‘Friendly with his wife?’
‘Not especially. She doesn’t talk to other women.’
‘How about the mistress?’
‘I didn’t know she had one.’
‘Robert Kramer’s mistress.’
‘I didn’t know he had one.’
‘Why don’t I believe you?’
‘You’re a policeman. Do you believe anything?’
‘Sorry to hear about your girlfriend, by the way. Left you, did she?’
‘It’s common knowledge.’
‘Anyone else at Robert Kramer’s party you’re especially friendly with?’
‘I don’t know any of the others that well. I keep my distance.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘They’re not my kind of people.’
‘I heard they don’t much care for you. They think you’re weird. Your girlfriend did, too.’
‘I imagine they all do.’
‘Why do you think that is?’
‘Because of my … predilections.’
‘And what are those?’
‘Come and see for yourself.’
Maltby led them to the staircase at the end of the hall and started to descend. ‘I’m a model maker,’ she explained. ‘That’s how I got into props and set design.’ At the bottom of the staircase, Bryant and May found themselves faced with a double-width wooden door covered in square iron studs, closed with an iron ring. She grabbed the ring and twisted it. The door swung wide with a theatrical groan.
The detectives found themselves inside a dungeon, complete with perspiring grey stone walls, a full-sized rack, a gibbet, thumbscrews, a scold’s bridle, a brazier with a red-hot branding iron sitting in it and various implements of torture. But more alarming than this were the full-sized mannequins that writhed in agony in the contraptions, burned, scarred, pierced and stretched. A hooded figure with a bare chest stood beside them holding tongue pincers. Another was posed standing over a screaming naked girl with a pair of eye gougers in his hand.
But the tableau that interested Bryant most was the one that featured a corpse hanging from a perfect hangman’s noose.
‘And you wonder why your girlfriend walked out,’ murmured Bryant.
‘I kicked her out,’ Maltby replied hotly. ‘She told me I needed psychiatric help. I’m a model maker, not a psycho. I just make these scenes for the skill of it. I build dioramas for the London Dungeon. I wanted to work for Hammer Films, but their heyday was before my time. They employed highly skilled craftspeople. You wouldn’t have turned around and told them they needed psychiatric help, would you?’
May suddenly realised what his partner had been doing since they arrived. Knowing that Maltby had isolated herself from everyone, he had set out to goad her into providing some angry answers, and had got them.
‘Missing any rope, are you?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Ray Pryce said you believe souls live on in the models you make.’