‘I don’t want to influence you – not that I flatter myself I can – at the outset. The popular theory with Coombe is the first. To support it this wretched boy says he saw Miss Pride arrive, leave and return. She herself saw him. Down on the road we’re coming to in a minute. So did Dr Maine. Now the second figure, of course, must have been Miss Cost not Miss Pride. But between the departure of Miss Pride and the arrival of Miss Cost, Barrimore went to the gates and chucked away the notice. Who replaced it? The murderer? Presumably. And when did Wally let himself into the enclosure? If he did? It must have been before Miss Cost appeared or she would have seen him. So we’ve got to suppose that for some reason Wally did go in and did hide behind the boulder, after Miss Pride had left, and avoiding Barrimore who didn’t see him. I don’t like it. It may be remotely possible but I don’t like it. And I’m certain he wouldn’t replace the notice. He hasn’t got the gumption. Anyway the timetable barely allows all this.’

‘He’d hardly mistake the deceased for Miss Pride, silly and all as he may be, if he got anything like a fair look at her.’

‘Exactly, Br’er Fox. As for the galloping Major: he swims round in an alcoholic trance. Never completely drunk. Hardly ever sober. And reputed, incredibly enough, to have had a brief fling with Miss Cost at about the same time as Wally’s warts vanished. He is thought to have proved fickle and to have aroused her classic fury. She also set her bonnet, unsuccessfully, it seems, at the doctor, the Rector and the Mayor. Barrimore’s got a most beautiful and alluring wife who is said to be bullied by him. She showed signs of acute distress after she heard the news. She’s the original Green Lady. It’s all in the notes: you can have a nice cosy read any time you fancy.’

‘Thanks.’

‘That’s Wally’s Cottage. We are about to climb Wally’s Way and that is Wally’s mama, another alcoholic, by the by, leering over the back fence. His father is ferryman at high-tide and general showman in between. The whole boiling of them, the Barrimores, the parson, the doctor, the Major, the Treherns, Miss Cost herself, with pretty well everybody else in the community, stood to lose by Miss Pride’s operations. Apart from arousing the cornered fury of a hunted male, it’s difficult to discover a motive for Miss Cost’s murder. Good evening, Mrs Trehern,’ Alleyn shouted and lifted his hat.

‘Yoo-hoo!’ Mrs Trehern wildly returned, clinging to her back fence. ‘Lock ‘er up. Bloody murderess.’

‘Who’s she mean?’ asked Fox.

‘Miss Pride.’

‘Bless my soul! Quelle galère!’ Fox added, cautiously.