‘By inference. What did you do it for?’

‘I was sick of that Cleopatra nonsense. She and her catgut nerves!’

‘Well, but she is terrifically attractive. A really magnificent creature.’

‘She’s as hard as nails. Still,’ added Alleyn with satisfaction, ‘I did make her sick. She went through the whole story the first time almost without batting an eyelid. Each time we came back to it she was a little less confident, and the last time when I mentioned the words ‘death throes’ she turned as green as asparagus.’

‘Well, wasn’t it natural?’

‘Quite natural. Served her jolly well right. I dislike fatal women. They reek of mass production.’

‘I don’t think you can say she’s as hard as nails. After all, she did feel ill. I mean she was upset by it all.’

‘Only her lovely stomach. She’s not in the least sorry for that unfortunate little animal who died under her hands. All that psychological clap-trap! She’s probably nosed into a Freud Without Tears and picked out a few choice phrases.’

‘I should say she was extremely intelligent.’

‘And you’d be right. She’s sharp enough. What she said about Garcia rang true, I thought. What d’you say, Brer Fox?’

‘You mean when she talked about Garcia’s cold-bloodedness, don’t you, sir?’

‘I do.’

‘Yes. They all seem to agree about him. I think myself that it doesn’t do to ignore other people’s impressions. If you find a lot of separate individuals all saying so-and-so is a cold, unscrupulous sort of person, why then,’ said Fox, ‘it usually turns out that he is.’

‘True for you.’

‘They might all be in collusion,’ said Nigel.

‘Why?’ asked Alleyn.

‘I don’t know.’

‘More do I.’

‘Well,’ said Fox, ‘if this Garcia chap doesn’t turn up in answer to our broadcast and ads and so on, it’ll look like a true bill.’

‘He’s probably the type that loathes radio and never opens a paper,’ said Nigel.

‘Highly probable,’ agreed Alleyn.

‘You’ll have to arrest all hikers within a three-days’ tramp from Tatler’s End House. What a bevy of shorts and rucksacks.’

‘He’ll have his painting gear if he’s innocent,’ said Alleyn. ‘If he’s innocent, he’s probably snoring in a pub not twenty miles away. The police stations have all been warned. We’ll get him soon enough—if he’s innocent.’

‘And if he’s guilty?’

‘Then he’s thought out the neatest method of murder that I’ve come across for a very long time,’ said Fox, ‘He knew that nobody would meddle with the throne, he knew he’d got two days’ start before the event came off, and he very likely thought we’d have a tough job finding anything to pin on to him.’

‘Those traces of modelling clay,’ murmured Alleyn.