‘Oh, he’d thought all that out,’ said Malmsley, yawning horribly. ‘We put the case on a tall stool in the window with the open end sideways, beside the tall stool he worked on. The thing was on a platform with wheels. He just had to wheel it into the case and fill the case with packing.’

‘How about getting it into the van?’

‘Dear me. Isn’t this all rather tedious?’

‘Extremely. A concise answer would enable us to move on to a more interesting narrative.’

Troy gave an odd little snort of laughter.

‘Well, Mr Malmsley?’ said Alleyn.

‘Garcia said the lorry would back into the window from the lane outside. The sill is only a bit higher than the stool. He said they’d be able to drag the case on to the sill and get it in the lorry.’

‘Did he say anything about arranging for the lorry?’

‘He asked me if there was a man in the village,’ said Troy. ‘I told him Burridge would do it.’

The policeman at the door gave a deprecatory cough.

‘Hullo?’ said Alleyn, slewing round in his chair. ‘Thought of something?’

‘The super asked Burridges if they done it, sir, and they says no.’

‘Right. Thank you. Now, Mr Malmsley, did you get any idea when Mr Garcia proposed to put the case on board the lorry?’

‘He said early next morning—Saturday.’

‘I see. There was no other mention of Miss Sonia Gluck, the pose, or Mr Garcia’s subsequent plans?’

‘No.’

‘He didn’t tell you where the clay model was to be delivered?’

‘No. He just said he’d got the loan of a disused warehouse in London.’

‘He told me he was going on a sketching-tramp for a week before he started work,’ said Valmai Seacliff.

‘To me also, he said this.’ Francis Ormerin leant forward, glancing nervously at Alleyn. ‘He said he wished to paint landscape for a little before beginning this big work.’

‘He painted?’ asked Alleyn.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Troy. ‘Sculping was his long suit, but he painted and etched a bit as well.’

‘Very interesting stuff,’ said Katti Bostock.

‘Drearily representational though, you must own,’ murmured Malmsley.

‘I don’t agree,’ said Ormerin.

‘Good God!’ exclaimed Basil Pilgrim, ‘we’re not here to discuss aesthetics.’

‘Does anyone here,’ Alleyn cut in firmly, ‘know who lent this warehouse to Garcia, where it was, when be proposed to go there, or in what direction he has supposedly walked away.?’

‘Silence.

‘He is possibly the most uncommunicative young man in England,’ said Troy suddenly.

‘It would seem so, indeed,’ agreed Alleyn.

‘There’s this, though,’ added Troy. ‘He told me the name of the man who commissioned the ‘Comedy and Tragedy’. It’s Charleston and I think he’s secretary to the board of the New Palace Theatre, Westminster. Is that any help?’

‘It may be a lot of help.’