‘Oh, yes,’ said Alleyn. ‘I do rather suspect one of you—or Mr Garcia—or the servants. But it’s early days yet. I am capable of almost limitless suspicion. At the moment I am going to tighten up this round-table conference.’ He looked at Hatchett. ‘How long have you been working without a tray on your easel?’

‘Eh? What d’you mean?’ Hatchett sounded startled.

‘It’s not very difficult. How long is it since you had a ledge on your easel?’

‘Haven’t I got one now?’

‘No.’

‘Oh yeah! That’s right. I took it off to hammer the dagger into the throne.’

‘What!’ screamed Phillida Lee. ‘Oh, I see.’

‘On the day of the experiment?’ asked Alleyn.

‘That’s right.’

‘And it’s been kicking about on the floor ever since?’

‘I suppose so. Half a tick, though—has it? Naow— it hasn’t, either.

I’ve had a ledge all right. I stuck my dipper on it. Look, I had a ledge on me easel Fridee after lunch.’

‘After lunch,’ asked Alleyn.

‘Yeah, I remember now. I ran down some time after lunch to have a look at the thing I’d been painting. I met you coming away, Ormerin, didn’t I?’

‘Yes. I only looked at my work and felt sick and came away.’

‘Yeah. Well, when I got there I thought I’d play around with the wet paint, see? Well, I’d just had a smack at it when I heard Ormerin singing out the old bus went past the corner on the main road in ten minutes. Well, I remember now; I jammed my brush into my dipper so’s it wouldn’t go hard, and then beat it. But the dipper was on the ledge all right.’

‘And was the ledge there this morning?’

‘You’re right. It wasn’t. And it wasn’t there Sundee night either.’

‘Sunday night?’ said Alleyn sharply.

‘That’s right. After we got back, see? I ran down to the studio just after tea.’

‘After tea? But I thought you didn’t come back until—’ Alleyn looked at his notes. ‘Until six-thirty.’

‘That’s correct, Mr Alleyn. We finished tea at half-past eight, about.’

‘The gentleman is talking of the evening meal, Inspector,’ said Malmsley. ‘They dine at noon in the Antipodes, I understand.’

‘Aw go and chase yourself,’ invited Hatchett. ‘I went down to the studio at about eight-thirty, Inspector. “After dinnah” if you’ve got enlarged tonsils. “After tea” if you’re normal.’

‘Did you get in?’

‘Too right. She was locked, but the key’s left on a nail, and I opened her up and had a look-see at my picture. Gosh, it looked all right, too, Miss Troy, by artificial light. Have you seen it by lamplight, Miss Troy?’

‘No,’ said Troy. ‘Don’t wander.’

‘Good oh, Miss Troy.’