‘Perhaps,’ Natouche continued, ‘I should say this. If you find, as I think you will, that Miss Rickerby-Carrick was murdered I fully realize that I come into the field of suspects. Of course I do. I only mention this in case you should think that I try to put myself in an exclusive position by speaking as a doctor in respect of your wife.’

‘Do you suppose,’ Alleyn asked carefully, ‘that any of the others think it may be a case of homicide?’

‘They do not confide in me, but I should undoubtedly think so. Yes.’

‘And they suspect that they will come into the field of inquiry?’

‘They would be extremely stupid if they did not expect to do so,’ he said. ‘And by and large I don’t find they are stupid people. Although at least three of them will certainly begin to suspect me of killing Miss Rickerby-Carrick.’

‘Why?’

‘Briefly: because I am an Ethiopian and they would prefer that I, rather than a white member of the company, should be found guilty.’

Alleyn listened to the huge voice, looked at the impassive face and wondered if this was a manifestation of inverted racialism or of sober judgment.

‘I hope you’re mistaken,’ he said.

‘And so, of course, do I,’ said Dr Natouche.

‘By the way, Troy tells me you found a scrap of material on deck.’

‘Ah, yes. You would like to see it? It’s here.’

He took out his pocket-book and extracted an envelope. ‘Shall I show you where it was?’ he asked.

‘Please.’

They went to the after-end of the deck.

‘The mattress was inflated,’ Natouche explained, ‘and lying where it had been when she used it. Mrs Alleyn noticed this fragment. It was caught under the edge of the pillow pocket. You will see that it is stained, presumably with river water. It seemed to me that Miss Rickerby-Carrick had probably taken her diary with her when she came up here to bed and that this piece of the cover, if it is that, became detached. The book was of course, saturated. I noted the cloth of its cover was torn when Lazenby rescued it. Your wife thought we should keep the fragment.’

‘Yes, she told me. Thank you. I must get on with my unlovely job. I am very much obliged to you, Dr Natouche, for having taken care of Troy.’

‘Please! I was most honoured that she placed a little confidence in me. I think,’ he added, ‘that I shall stroll up to the wapentake. If you’ll excuse me.’