‘But I fancy,’ Alleyn said, ‘that in common with all the rest of you, Dr Natouche had ample opportunity to observe them at Norminster on the morning you embarked.’

‘Here!’ Pollock shouted. ‘What price this for a theory? What price him and them knocked it up between them? What price they did the clobbering and he handled the suitcase? Now then!’

He stared in front of him, sneering vaingloriously and contriving at the same time to look frightened. Natouche’s face was closed like a wall.

‘I thought,’ Caley said to Pollock, ‘you’d settled to keep your mouth shut until you got a solicitor. Why the devil can’t you follow your own advice and belt up?’

‘Here, ‘ere, ‘ere!’

Fox returned with young Tom who, tousled with sleep and naked to the waist, looked very young indeed and rather frightened.

‘Sorry to knock you up like this, Tom,’ Alleyn said. ‘Mr Fox will have told you what it’s all about.’

Tom nodded.

‘We just want to know if you can tell us anything about the ton-up couple. Friends of yours?’

Tom showed the whites of his eyes and said not to say friends exactly. He shifted his feet, curled his toes, looked everywhere but at Alleyn and answered in monosyllables. The passengers listened avidly. Alleyn wondered if he was wise to conduct this one-sided interview in front of them and thought that on the whole, it would probably pay off. He extracted, by slow degrees, that Tom had hobnobbed with the ton-up pair some time ago in a coffee-bar in Norminster. When? He couldn’t say exactly. Some time back. Early in the cruising season? Yes. Early on. He hadn’t seen them again until this cruise. Names? He wouldn’t know the surnames. The chap got called Pluggy and his girlfriend was Glenys. Did they live in the district? He didn’t think so. He couldn’t say where they lived.

This was heavy going. Caley sighed and took up his book. Dr Natouche had the air of politely attending a function that did not interest him. Pollock bit his nails. Lazenby assumed a tolerant smile and Hewson stared at Tom with glazed intensity.

Alleyn said: ‘Did they talk to you first or did you make up to them? In the coffee-bar?’

‘They did,’ Tom mumbled. ‘They wanted to know about places.’

‘What sort of places?’

‘Along The River. Back of The River.’

‘Just any old places?’

No. It appeared, not quite that. They were interested in the second-hand trade. They wanted to know where there were junk shops or yards or used-parts dumps. Yes, he’d told them about Jo Bagg.

The passengers shifted their feet.