‘You must meet Miss Pride, Br’er Fox, she’s a top authority on French as she should be spoke.’

‘Ah!’ said Fox, ‘To be properly taught from the word go! That’s the thing. What does she think of the gramophone method?’

‘Not much.’

‘That’s what I was afraid of,’ said Fox with a heavy sigh.

Mrs Trehern gave a screech, not unlike one of her son’s and tacked into the cottage. Alleyn went over to the fence and looked into the back garden. The clothes-line had been removed.

They climbed up Wally’s Way to the enclosure. One of Coombe’s men was standing a little way along the hotel path.

Alleyn said to Bailey: ‘The whole area was trampled over when the rain came down. From below, up to the boulder, it’s thick broken bracken and you won’t get results, I’m afraid. On the shelf above the pool where the deceased was crouched, leaning forward, you’ll find her prints superimposed over others. Above that, behind the boulder, is the area where our man, woman or child is thought to have hidden. There’s a clear indication of the place where the rock was prised up and signs that some effort was made to scrape out the footprints. All this, on top of the mess left by the crowd. And to add to your joy, Superintendent Coombe and Dr Maine were up there this morning. Their prints ought to be fairly easy to cut out. The Super was wearing his regulation issue and the doctor’s are ripple-soled. Thompson, give us a complete coverage, will you? And we’ll need casts, Bailey. Better take them as soon as possible.’ He looked up at the sky. Heavy clouds were rolling in from the north-west and a fresh wind had sprung up. The sea was no longer calm. ‘Anyone notice the forecast?’

‘Yes,’ said Fox. ‘Gales and heavy rain before morning.’

‘Damn.’

He produced Coombe’s key for the wire cage which had been locked over the slot machine.

‘Notice this, Br’er Fox, would you? It was installed at Miss Cost’s insistence to baffle courting couples after dark, and not often used. I think it might be instructive. Only Coombe and The Boy-and-Lobster had keys. You can get out of the enclosure by the other gate, which is on a spring and is self-locking on the inside. You could go in by this turnstile and, if you used a length of string, pull the padlock, on the slack of its chain, round to the netting and lock yourself in.’

‘Any reason to think it’s been done?’

‘Only this: there’s a fragment of frayed string, caught in the groove of the wire. Get a shot of it, Thompson, will you, before we take possession.’