‘That’s very dangerous,’ Fox said absently. ‘That place. Kids might get in there. If they interfered with those props, anything could happen.’ He stood up, eased his legs and looked down at The River. It was masked by a rising mist.

The Zodiac was moored for the night some distance above Ramsdyke Lock. The passengers were having their dinner, Mr Tillottson and his sergeant being provided for at an extra table. Alleyn had had a moment or two with Troy and had suggested that she might slip away and join them if an opportunity presented itself. If, however, she could not do so without attracting a lot of attention she was to go early to bed and lock her door. He would come to her later and she was to unlock it to nobody else. To which she had replied: ‘Well, naturally,’ and he had said she knew damned well what he meant and they had broken into highly inappropriate laughter. He and Fox had then walked up to the wapentake where at least they were able to converse above a mutter.

‘There is,’ Alleyn said, ‘a vacant cabin, of course. Now.’

‘That’s right.’

‘I tell you what, Fox. We’ll have a word with the Skipper and take it over. We’ll search and we’ll need a warrant.’

‘I picked one up on my way from the beak at Tollardwark. He didn’t altogether see it but changed his mind when I talked about the Foljambe connection.’

‘As well he might. One of us could doss down in the cabin for the night if there’s any chance of a bit of kip which is not likely. It’d be a safety measure.’

‘You,’ said Fox, ‘if it suits. I’ve dumped a homicide bag at the Ramsdyke Arms.’

‘Tillottson kept his head and had the cabin locked. He says it’s full of junk. We’ll get the key off him. Look who’s here.’

It was Troy, coming into the field from Dyke Way by the top gate. Alleyn thought: ‘I wonder how rare it is for a man’s heart to behave as mine does at the unexpected sight of his wife.’

Fox said: ‘I’ll nip along to the pub, shall I, and settle for my room and bring back your kit and something to eat. Then you can relieve Tillottson and start on the cabin. Will I ring the Yard and get the boys sent up?’

‘Yes,’ Alleyn said. ‘Yes. Better do that. Thank you, Br’er Fox.’ By ‘the boys’ Br’er Fox meant Sergeants Bailey and Thompson, fingerprint and photograph experts, who normally worked with Alleyn.