The superintendent stood up, stretched.

“Protecting his fancy woman, I shouldn’t wonder. He’s worried about something. And I don’t believe that he overslept. Birdwatchers get up early, don’t they? They don’t oversleep.”

“Do you think that he strangled Todd?” Connibear felt that Savage was expecting some contribution.

“I don’t know, lad. And I don’t speculate.” It was a rebuke. “I haven’t seen them all yet.” He hesitated. “I want to get this right,” he said. “Not for them …” he nodded vaguely in the direction of the mainland, of the glass and concrete office block which housed his superiors “… but for me.”

“Which one do you want to see next?” asked Connibear. Now that the first excitement was over, it was just a job, an investigation like any other. He thought that Savage was being melodramatic.

“Go and fetch the doctor for me.”

In the common room the doctor had banished his romantic dreams. He was frightened to dwell on them too often in case they lost their magic. He had been considering the ethical problem of whether he should pass on to Savage the conversation between Pamela Marshall and Jerry Packham which he had overheard from the library the night before. He enjoyed thinking about it. He enjoyed teasing out the possible implications of the argument between them. He enjoyed the sense of happiness and security which the awareness of other people’s problems can bring. He had come to the conclusion that it would be right to repeat it, but this decision had nothing to do with ethics and everything to do with the power of gossip.

When Connibear came to summon him he felt nervous after all. He fumbled the business of standing up. His hand shook on the door handle. As he walked into the ringing room Savage’s attitude immediately reassured him. The policeman was still standing up. He leaned across the desk and shook Doctor Derbyshire’s hand.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” he said with an extravagant show of apology. He gestured Paul Derbyshire to sit down, and waited until the doctor was comfortably seated before sitting down himself.

“I understand that you are the chairman of the Observatory Trust.”

This recognition of his status gave Paul Derbyshire confidence in the policeman. His nerves disappeared. What did he have to fear? He smoothed his white hair, which was a little long at the back and a little thin on the top.

“I am,” he said. “I was elected chairman at our first committee meeting five years ago, and I have remained so.”

“So you can explain to me what Mr. Todd’s proposed sale of the island would have meant to the observatory?”

“It would have been catastrophic. We could never have afforded to buy the observatory building and if we had done so, the work of the observatory would have been quite changed. You see the most important function of the place is to ring birds. The observatory has a small garden, but most of the mist-net sites are out on the island. The correct habitat is essential.”