‘You may smoke, all of you,’ said Alleyn, and they lit cigarettes.

‘Well,’ said Curtis, ‘I’d better look at him.’

He put out his well-kept doctor’s hand and drew away the handkerchief from the face.

‘Christ!’ said Bailey.

‘Get on with it,’ said Alleyn harshly. ‘Bailey, I want you to take his prints first. It’s Garcia all right. Then compare them with anything you can get from the bottle and cup. Before you touch the bottle we’ll take a photograph. Where’s Thompson?’

Thompson came in from the car with his camera and flashlight. The usual routine began. Alleyn, looking on, was filled with a violent loathing of the whole scene. Thompson took six photographs of the body and then they covered it. Alleyn began to talk.

‘You’d better hear what I make of all this on the face of the information we’ve already got. Bailey, you carry on while I’m talking. Go over every inch of the table and surrounding area. You’ve got my case? Good. We’ll want specimens of this unspeakable muck on the floor. I’ll do that.’

‘Let me fix it, sir,’ said Fox. ‘I’m out of a job, and we’d like to hear your reconstruction of this business.’

‘You’d better rig something over your nose and mouth. Nitric acid fumes are no more wholesome than they are pleasant, are they, Curtis?’

‘Not too good,’ grunted Curtis. ‘May as well be careful.’

The doors at the end opened to admit the PC whom Alleyn had left on guard.

‘What is it?’ asked Alleyn.

‘Gentleman to see you, sir.’

‘Is his name Bathgate?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Miserable young perisher,’ muttered Alleyn. ‘Tell him to wait. No. Half a minute. Send him in.’

When Nigel appeared Alleyn asked fiercely: ‘How did you get wind of this?’

‘I was down at the Yard. They’d told me you were out. I saw Fox and the old gang tootle away in a car, then the mortuary van popped out. I followed in a taxi. What’s up? There’s a hell of a stink in here.’

‘The only reason I’ve let you in is to stop you pitching some cock-and-bull story to your filthy paper. Sit down in a far corner and be silent.’

‘All right, all right.’

Alleyn turned to the others.

‘We’ll get on. Don’t move the body just yet, Curtis.’

‘Very good,’ said Dr Curtis, who was cleaning his hands with ether. ‘Speak up, Alleyn. Are you going to tell us this fellow’s swallowed nitric acid?’

‘I think so.’

‘Bloody loathsome way of committing suicide.’

‘He didn’t know it was nitric acid.’

‘Accident?’

‘No. Murder.’

CHAPTER 18
One of Five

‘I think,’ said Alleyn, ‘that we’ll start off with the packing case.’

He walked over to it and flashed his torch on the swathed shape inside.