‘All right, all right,’ Alleyn said exasperated by the long build-up. ‘And you say: “Absurd mistake. Silly old me! I thought you were Miss Emily Pride”.’

II

The upshot, as he very well knew it would be, was an understanding that Coombe would get in touch with his Chief Constable and then with the Yard.

Coombe insisted on telling Dr Maine that he hoped Alleyn would take charge of the case. The ambulance men arrived with Pender and for the second time in twenty-four hours, Miss Cost went in procession along Wally’s Way.

Alleyn and Coombe stayed behind to look over the territory again. Coombe had a spring-tape in his pocket and they took preliminary measurements and decided to get the areas covered in case of rain. He showed Alleyn where the trip-wire had been laid: through dense bracken on the way up to the shelf. Pender had caught a glint of it in the sunshine and had been sharp enough to investigate.

They completed their arrangements. The handbag, the string of beads and the umbrella were to be dropped at the police-station by Pender who was then to return with extra help if he could get it. The piece of rock would be sent with the body to the nearest mortuary which was at Dunlowman.

When they were outside the gates, Alleyn drew Coombe’s attention to the new notice, tied securely to the wire-netting.

‘Did you see this?’

It had been printed by a London firm.

WARNING

Notice is given that the owner of this property wishes to disassociate herself from any claims that have been made, in any manner whatsoever, for the curative properties of the spring. She gives further notice that the present enclosure is to be removed. Any proceedings of any nature whatsoever that are designed to publicize the above claims will be discontinued. The property will be restored, as far as possible, to conditions that obtained two years ago and steps will be taken to maintain it in a decent and orderly condition.

(Signed) Emily Pride

‘When the hell was this put up?’ Coombe ejaculated. ‘It wasn’t there yesterday. There’d have been no end of a taking-on.’

‘Perhaps this morning. It’s been rained on. More than that. It’s muddied. As if it had lain face-downwards on the ground. Look. Glove marks. No finger-prints, though.’

‘P’raps she dropped it.’

‘Perhaps,’ Alleyn said. ‘There’s another on display in the hotel letter-rack. It wasn’t there last night.’

‘Put them there herself? Miss Pride?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘There you are!’ Coombe said excitedly. ‘She came along the footpath. Somebody spotted her, streaked up Wally’s Way, got in ahead and hid behind the boulder. She hung up her notice and went back to the pub. Miss Cost arrives by the other route, goes in, picks up her beads and Bob’s your uncle.’