‘That will do to go on with,’ Alleyn said to Fox, and aped Wally’s serial: ‘C’m’ on. Let’s go.’

CHAPTER 8
The Shop

They found Bailey and Thompson outside, locked in their mackintoshes with an air of customary usage and with their gear stowed inside waterproof covers. Rain cascaded from their hat brims.

‘We’ll go back to the pub,’ Alleyn said. ‘In a minute.’

The Trethaways’ cottage was across the lane from the Treherns’. Alleyn knocked at the back door and was invited in by the proud father: an enormous grinning fellow. The latest addition was screaming very lustily in the bedroom. Her father apologized for this drawback to conversation.

‘ ‘Er be a lil’ maid, ‘er be,’ he said, ‘and letting fly with ‘er vocal powers according.’

They stood by the kitchen window which looked up the lane towards the Spring. Seeing this, Alleyn asked him if he’d happened to notice Wally in the lane at about the time the baby was born or soon after and was given the reasonable answer that Mr Trethaway’s attention was on other matters. The baby had indeed been born at seven-thirty and Dr Maine had in fact left very soon afterwards.

Alleyn congratulated Trethaway, shook his hand, rejoined his colleagues and told them what he’d gleaned.

‘So why does Trehern say he saw the doctor leave at about five past eight?’ Fox asked. ‘There’s usually only one reason for that sort of lie, isn’t there? Trying to rig the time, so that you look as if you couldn’t have been on the spot. That’s the normal caper.’

‘So it is then,’ Alleyn agreed with a reasonable imitation of the local voice. ‘But there are loose ends here. Or are there?’

‘Well yes,’ Fox said. ‘In a way.’

‘Bailey: what did you get? Any fisherman’s boots superimposed on the general mess? Or boy’s boots? I couldn’t find any.’

‘Nothing like that, Mr Alleyn. But as you said yourself, this flat slice of stone’s been used to cut out recent prints. We’ve picked up enough to settle that point,’ Bailey said grudgingly, ‘not much else. The only nice jobs are the ones left after this morning’s rain by a set of regulation tens and another of brogues or gentleman’s country shoes, size nine-and-a-half ripple soles and in good repair.’

‘I know. The Super and the doctor.’

‘That’s right, sir, from what you’ve mentioned.’

‘What about the stuff near the outcrop and behind it?’

‘What you thought, Mr Alleyn. They match. Hand-sewn, officer’s type. Ten-and-a-half but custom-made. Worn but well-kept.’

‘In a sense you might be describing the owner. Did you tell Carey he could go off duty?’

‘Yes, sir. There seemed no call for him to stay. We’ve got all the casts and photographs we want. I used salt in the plaster, seeing how the weather was shaping. It was OK. Nice results.’