‘He didn’t know when I was coming back. He wouldn’t have risked my arriving early and finding the caravan gone. Besides, anyone might have seen him.’

‘That’s perfectly true,’ said Alleyn.

‘If this warehouse place is somewhere in London, he could do the trip easily if it was late at night, couldn’t he?’ asked Troy.

‘Yes. Dear me, I shall have to do a sum. Wait a moment. Your car does twenty to the gallon, and holds eight gallons. You went forty miles, starting with a full tank. Therefore there should be six gallons, and there are only about three. That leaves a discrepancy of sixty miles or so. How fast can she go?’

‘I suppose forty to forty-five or fifty if pressed. She’s elderly and not meant for Brooklands.’

‘I know. I do wish he’d told one of you where this damned warehouse was.’

‘But he did. At least, Seacliff said this morning she thought she remembered he said something about it being near Holloway.’

‘Good Lord, why didn’t she say so last night?’

‘Why does she always behave in the most tiresome manner one could possibly conceive? I’m nearly as bad, not to have told you at once.’

‘You’re nothing like as bad. How did Miss Seacliff happen to remember Holloway?’

‘It was at breakfast, which, I may tell you, was not a very sparkling event this morning. Phillida Lee would talk about every murder story she has ever read, and Hatchett was more bumptious than words can describe. At last the Lee child remarked that if a woman was convicted of murder, she was hanged at Holloway, and Seacliff suddenly exclaimed: “Holloway— that’s it—that’s where Garcia’s warehouse is; he said something about it when he first came down.” ’

‘Is she sure?’

‘She seems to be fairly certain. Shall I send for her?’

‘Would you?’

Troy rang the bell, which was answered by Hipkin, a large man with a small head and flat feet.

‘Ask Miss Seacliff if she’ll come and see me.’

Seacliff strolled in, dressed in black trousers and a magenta sweater. She looked very lovely.

‘Good morning, Miss Seacliff,’ said Alleyn cheerfully. ‘Are you recovered?’

‘Why, what was the matter with you?’ Troy asked her.

Seacliff glared at Alleyn with positive hatred.

‘Miss Seacliff was indisposed last night,’ said Alleyn.

‘What was the matter?’

‘Nerves,’ said Seacliff.

‘Was it you who was sick in the downstairs bathroom?’ demanded Troy with an air of sudden enlightenment. ‘Sadie was furious at having to clear up. She said—’

‘Need we discuss it, Troy? I’m really terribly upset.’

‘You must have been,’ agreed Troy, with a suspicion of a grin. ‘I must say I think you might have cleared up after yourself. Sadie said she thought at least three men—’

‘Troy!’

‘All right. Do you want to be alone, Mr Alleyn?’

‘No, no. I just wanted to ask Miss Seacliff about this Holloway business.’