‘Of course it doesn’t. But I should be glad of an answer, Miss Bostock.’

‘She was playing up, and I ticked her off. She knew I wanted to finish the thing for the Group Show, and she deliberately set out to make work impossible. I scraped the head down four times, and now the canvas is unworkable—the tooth has gone completely. Troy is always too easy with the models. She spoils them. I gave the little brute hell because she needed it.’

‘And did she pose again for you?’

‘No. I’ve told you the thing was dead.’

‘How did she misbehave? Just fidgeting?’

Katti leant forward, her square hands on her knees. Alleyn noticed that she was shaking a little, like an angry terrier.

‘I’d got the head laid in broadly—I wanted to draw it together with a dry brush and then complete it. I wanted to keep it very simple and round, the drawing of the mouth was giving me trouble. I told her not to move—she had a damnable trick of biting her lip. Every time I looked at her she gave a sort of sneering smirk. As if she knew it wasn’t going well. I mixed a touch of cadmium red for the under-lip. Just as I was going to lay it down she grimaced. I cursed her. She didn’t say anything. I pulled myself together to put the brush on the canvas and looked at her. She stuck her foul little tongue out.’

‘And that tore it to shreds, I imagine?’

‘It did. I said everything I’d been trying not to say for the past fortnight. I let go.’

‘Not surprising. It must have been unspeakably maddening. Why, do you suppose, was she so set on making things impossible?’

‘She deliberately baited me,’ said Katti, under her breath.

‘But why?’

‘Why? Because I’d treated her as if she was a model. Because I expected to get some return for the excessive wages Troy was giving her. I’d engaged her, and I managed things till Troy came back. Sonia resented that. Always hinting that I wasn’t her boss and so on.’

‘That was all?’

‘Yes.’

‘I see. You say her wages were excessively generous. What was she paid?’

‘Four pounds a week and her keep. She’s spun Troy some tale about doctor’s bills, and Troy, as usual, believed the sad story and stumped up. She’s anybody’s mark for sponging. It’s so damned immoral to let people get away with that sort of thing. It’s no good talking to Troy. Streetbeggars see her coming a mile away. She’s got two dead-heads here now.’

‘Really? Which two?’