‘But I’ve told you a dozen times I’ve no information to give you. None. I’m unwell and I came here for a rest. A rest! My God! You may have my address and if I should be wanted you’ll know where to find me. But I know nothing that can be of the smallest help to you.’

‘Well, now, Mr Gaunt, we’ll just see if that’s so. I haven’t got round yet to asking you anything, have I? Now, perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me just how you got home last night.’

Gaunt beat the arms of his chair and with an excruciating air of enforced control said in a whisper: ‘How I got home? Very well. Very well. I walked home.’

‘Across the reserve, sir?’

‘No. I loathe and abominate the reserve. I walked home by the road.’

‘That’s quite a long way round, Mr Gaunt. I understand you had your car at the concert.’

‘Yes, Sergeant, I had my car. That did not prevent me from wishing to walk. I walked. I wanted fresh air and I walked.’

‘Who drove the car, sir?’

‘I did,’ said Dikon.

‘Then I suppose, Mr Bell, that you overtook Mr Gaunt?’

‘No. It was some time before we left.’

‘Longer than fifteen minutes after the concert was over, would you say?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought.’

‘Mr Falls puts it at about fifteen minutes. It’s a mile and a quarter by the main road, sir,’ said Webley, shifting his position in order to face Gaunt. ‘You must be a smart walker.’

‘The car can’t do more than crawl along that road, you know. But I walked fast on this occasion, certainly.’

‘Yes. Would that be because you were at all excited, Mr Gaunt? I’ve noticed that when people are kind of stimulated or excited they’re inclined to step out.’

Gaunt laughed and adopted mistakenly, Dikon thought, an air of raillery. ‘I believe you’re a pressman in disguise, Sergeant. You want me to tell you about my temperament.’

‘No, sir,’ said Webley stolidly. ‘I just wondered why you walked so fast.’

‘You have guessed why. I was stimulated. For the first time in months I had spoken Shakespearean lines to an audience.’

‘Yes?’ Webley opened his notebook. ‘I understand you left before the other members of your party. With the exception of Mr Questing, that is. Mr Questing left before you, didn’t he?’

‘Did he? I believe he did.’ Gaunt put his delicate hand to his eyes and then shook his head violently as though he dismissed some unwelcome vision. Next he smiled sadly at Mr Webley, extended his arms and let them flop. It was a bit of business that he used in Hamlet during the penultimate duologue with Horatio. Mr Webley watched it glumly. ‘You must forgive me, Sergeant,’ said Gaunt. ‘This thing has upset me rather badly.’