‘Yes,’ said Baldwin, ‘I talked to Otterweight this morning. Ex-coastguard man. I always consult him in anything to do with tides and currents. About the time the lady went into the Helm, if she did go into the Helm, the tide was just on the ebb. There is a full moon now and it would be flowing swiftly. Reckon she’d be carried out to sea and the current would take her towards the Cornish coast. There’s no certainty where the body would fetch up or if it would fetch up at all. One or two drownings we’ve had here, we’ve never recovered the body. It gets broken up, too, on the rocks. Here, by Start Point. On the other hand, it might fetch up any day.’

‘If it doesn’t, it’s going to be difficult,’ said Bland.

‘You’re certain in your own mind that she did go into the river?’

‘I don’t see what else it can be,’ said Inspector Bland sombrely. ‘We’ve checked up, you know, on the buses and the trains. This place is a cul-de-sac. She was wearing conspicuous clothes and she didn’t take any others with her. So I should say she never left Nasse. Either her body’s in the sea or else it’s hidden somewhere on the property. What I want now,’ he went on heavily, ‘is motive. And the body of course,’ he added, as an afterthought. ‘Can’t get anywhere until I find the body.’

‘What about the other girl?’

‘She saw it – or she saw something. We’ll get at the facts in the end, but it won’t be easy.’

Baldwin in his turn looked up at the clock.

‘Time to go,’ he said.

The two police officers were received on board the Espérance with all De Sousa’s charming courtesy. He offered them drinks which they refused, and went on to express a kindly interest in their activities.

‘You are farther forward with your inquiries regarding the death of this young girl?’

‘We’re progressing,’ Inspector Bland told him.

The superintendent took up the running and expressed very delicately the object of their visit.

‘You would like to search the Espérance?’ De Sousa did not seem annoyed. Instead he seemed rather amused. ‘But why? You think I conceal the murderer or do you think perhaps that I am the murderer myself ?’

‘It’s necessary, Mr De Sousa, as I’m sure you’ll understand. A search warrant…’

De Sousa raised his hands.

‘But I am anxious to co-operate – eager! Let this be all among friends. You are welcome to search where you will in my boat. Ah, perhaps you think that I have here my cousin, Lady Stubbs? You think, perhaps, she has run away from her husband and taken shelter with me? But search, gentlemen, by all means search.’