‘Good. It’s getting rougher. Look at that sea.’

In the channel between Island and village, the tide now rolled and broke in a confusion of foam and jetting spray. Out at sea there were white horses everywhere. The horizon was dark and broken. The causeway was lashed by breakers that struck, rose, fell across it and withdrew, leaving it momentarily exposed and blackly glinting in what remained of the daylight. The hotel launch bucketed and rolled at the jetty. A man in oilskins was mounting extra fenders. Above the general roar of sea and rain, the thud of the launch’s starboard side against the legs of the jetty could be clearly heard.

Light shone dimly behind the windows of Miss Cost’s Giffte Shoppe.

‘PC Pender’s locked up in there with Miss Cissy Pollock on the switchboard,’ Alleyn muttered. ‘I’ll just have a word with him.’ He tapped on the door. After a moment, it was opened a crack and Mr Pender said: ‘Be’ant no manner of use pestering – ’ and then saw Alleyn. ‘Beg pardon, sir, I’m sure,’ he said. ‘Thought you was one of they damned kids come back.’ He flung open the door. Alleyn called to Fox and the others and they went in.

The shop smelt fustily of cardboard, wool and gum. In the postal section, Miss Cissy Pollock bulged at a switchboard: all eyes and teeth when she saw the visitors.

Pender said that a call had come through for Alleyn from Dunlowman. ‘Sir James Curtis, it were, sir,’ he said with reverence. Curtis was the Home Office pathologist. ‘Wishful to speak with you. I intercepted the call, sir, and informed the station and The Boy-and-Lobster.’

‘Where was he?’

‘Dunlowman mortuary, sir, along with the body and the doctor. I’ve got the number.’

‘Aw, dear!’ Miss Pollock exclaimed. ‘Be’ant it shocking though!’ She had removed her headphones.

Alleyn asked if she could put him through. She engaged to do so and directed him to an instrument in a cubbyhole.

The mortuary attendant answered and said Sir James was just leaving but he’d try to catch him. He could be heard pounding off down a concrete passage. In a minute or two the great man spoke.

‘Hullo, Rory, where the devil have you been? I’ve done this job for you. Want the report?’

‘Please.’