The Coroner wrote.
“But on the Sunday, Mr. Wedgwood, when you were having tea—with others—at Mrs. Brande’s flat, didn’t you wonder then what had happened to your cousin?”
“I did. I thought he had stayed away rather a long time, but I wasn’t worried. As I say, my cousin was unreliable.”
“Well, then, one other point. You say you were getting your car out, intending to crawl through the fog until you got to the open country, because you wanted to be by yourself. And yet as soon as Mrs. Brande phoned you you suggested you should take her out to see a film? How do you explain that?”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t explain it,” he said. “I’m just telling you what happened.”
“Mr. Wedgwood, is there a love affair between you and Mrs. Brande?”
“Certainly not.”
“You have never at any time treated her
