‘Now get this straight,’ Alleyn said. ‘I’m not suggesting the boy’s implicated in any way whatever. I am suggesting that they’ve appealed to his imagination and to the instinct for rebellion that rumbles in any normal chap of Tom’s age. Now, after what’s happened, he’s scared. He knows something but he won’t talk. I’m not going to sit him down and grill him. I don’t want to and I haven’t time. If you can get him to tell you whether he saw or spoke to or knows anything about, this precious pair after he saw them on the bridge here at Ramsdyke on Monday afternoon: well, it may help us and it may not. We’ve caught them in possession of a valuable jewel which when last seen was slung round Miss Rickerby-Carrick’s neck. That’s the picture, Skipper, and as far as Tom’s concerned it’s over to you.’

‘I told him. I told him to keep clear of that lot. If I thought it’d do any good I’d belt him.’

‘Would you? He’s left school, hasn’t he? What does he do week in week out? Norminster to Longminster and back with a trick at the wheel if he’s in luck on the straight reaches? What did you do at his age, Skipper?’

‘Me?’ The Skipper shot a look at Alleyn. ‘I shipped cabin boy aboard a Singapore tramp. All right, I get the point. I’ll talk to him.’

Alleyn walked to the starboard side and looked at The River.

It almost seemed as if the field of detergent foam that had closed over Hazel Rickerby-Carrick had supernaturally climbed the weir, invested the upper reaches and closed in upon the Zodiac. ‘Is this what you call the Creeper?’ Alleyn said.

‘That’s right. You get her at this time of year. Very low-lying country from Norminster to Crossdyke.’

‘Thick,’ Fox said. ‘Fog, more like.’

‘And will be more so before dawn. She’s making.’

‘We’ll push on,’ Alleyn said. ‘You know the drill, don’t you, Skipper? As soon as they’re all in bed put your craft in the lock and empty the lock. Give them a bit of time to settle. Watch for their lights to go out. It’s twenty to eleven. You won’t have long to wait.’

‘It is OK with the Authority, isn’t it? I wouldn’t want—’

‘Perfectly. It’s all fixed.’

‘A man could scramble out of it, you know.’

‘Yes, but only with a certain amount of trouble. It wouldn’t be so simple in this fog, whereas at her moorings it would be extremely easy to jump or, if necessary, swim. It’ll confine the escape area, in effect. You’ll be relieved as soon as possible after first light. We’re very much in your debt over this, Skipper. Thank you for helping. Goodnight.’