‘Well, the garage yard is not far off. We could take it through the yard into the lane, and the van could go along and meet them there.’

‘I think it would be better.’

Blackman called through the window.

‘Hullo there! Drive along to the back entrance and send the stretcher in from there. Keep over on the far side of the lane.’

‘OK, super,’ said a cheerful voice.

‘Sligo, you go along and show the way.’

The constable at the door disappeared, and in a minute or two returned with two men and a stretcher. They carried Sonia’s body out into the night.

‘Well, I’ll push off,’ said Dr Ampthill.

‘I’d like to get away, too, if you’ll let me off, Mr Alleyn,’ said Blackman. ‘I’m expecting a report at the station on this other case. Two of my chaps are down with flu and I’m rushed off my feet. I needn’t say we’ll do everything we can. Use the station whenever you want to.’

‘Thank you so much. I’ll worry you as little as possible. Good night.’

The door slammed and the voices died away in the distance. Alleyn turned to Fox, Bailey and Thompson.

‘The old team.’

‘That’s right, sir,’ said Bailey. ‘Suits us all right.’

‘Well,’ said Alleyn, ‘it’s always suited me. Let’s get on with it. You’ve got your photographs and prints. Now we’ll up-end the throne. Everything’s marked, so we can get it back. Let me take a final look at the drape. Yes. You see, Fox, it fell taut from the cushion to the floor, above the point of the knife. Nobody would dream of disturbing it, I imagine. As soon as Miss Seacliff pressed the model over, the drape went with her, pulling away the drawing-pin that held it to the boards. That’s all clear enough. Over with the throne.’

They turned the dais on its side. The light shone through the cracks in the roughly built platform. From the widest of these cracks projected the hilt of the dagger. It was a solid-looking round handle, bound with tarnished wire and protected by a crossbar guard. One side of the guard actually dug into the platform. The other just cleared it. The triangular blade had bitten into the edge of the planks. The end of the hilt was shiny.

‘It’s been hammered home at a slight angle, so that the blade would be at right-angles to the inclined plane of the body. It’s an ingenious, dirty, deliberated bit of work, this. Prints, please, Bailey, and a photograph. Go over the whole of the under-surface. You won’t get anything, I’m afraid.’