Before he left Tatler’s End House Alleyn rang up Superintendent Blackman and asked if there was any news of Garcia. There was none. A discreetly-worded notice had appeared in the morning papers and the B.B.C. had instructions to send out a police message. The police, within a fifty-mile radius, had made intensive inquiries.

‘It looks as if he didn’t want to be found, Mr Alleyn. The weather’s been fine and if he’d sketched as he said he intended to do, he wouldn’t have gone far in two days. It looks to me as if the bird had flown.’

‘It does a bit. Of course, he might have changed his plans and taken a train or bus. We’ll have to get on to the railway stations. All that deadly game. Thanks so much, Mr Blackman. I’ll let you know if there are any developments. Inquest tomorrow?’

‘No, Thursday. Our gentleman’s full up tomorrow. Bossicote Town Hall at eleven. He’s a sensible sort of chap, our man.’

‘Good. I’ll call on the C.C. this morning, before I go up to London.

‘Just as well. He likes to be consulted.’

‘What about the post-mortem?’

‘I wanted to let you know. She was going to have a child. About a month gone, the doctor says.’

‘I thought as much. Look here, I think I’ll get straight up to London. Make my apologies to the Chief Constable, will you? I want to catch a friend of Sonia Gluck’s, and I can’t risk missing her.’

‘Right you are. He’ll understand. So long. See you on Thursday.’

Alleyn found Fox, who had renewed his acquaintance with the Hipkins and Sadie, and drove him back through teeming rain to Danes Lodge for breakfast.

‘I’ve had a bit of a yarn with Ethel Jones,’ said Fox.

‘Ethel? Oh yes, the help from the village. What had she got to say for herself?’

‘Quite a bit,’ said Fox. He opened his notebook and put on his spectacles.

‘You’re looking very bland, Brer Fox. What have you got on to?’

‘Well, sir, it seems that Ethel and her boy took a walk on Friday night down the lane. They passed by the studio window on their way home from the pictures at about eleven-thirty, perhaps a bit later. There were lights going in the studio but the blind was down. They walked straight past, but when they’d gone a piece further down the lane they stopped in the shadow of the trees to have a bit of a cuddle as you might put it. Ethel doesn’t know how long it lasted. She says you’re apt to lose your idea of time on these occasions, but when they got back to earth and thought about moving on, she glanced down the lane and saw someone outside the studio window.’

‘Did she, by gum! Go on, Fox!’