It was, indeed, dauntingly pretty. Hollyhocks, daisies, foxgloves and antirrhinums flanked a cobbled path: honeysuckle framed the door. Fishing-nets of astonishing cleanliness festooned the fence. Beside the gate, in gothic lettering, hung a legend: ‘Wally’s Cottage. Admission I/-. West-country Cream-Teas, Ices.’

‘There’s an annex at the back,’ explained Jenny. ‘The teas are run by a neighbour, Mrs Trehern not being up to it. The Golden Record’s in the parlour with other exhibits.’

‘The Golden Record?’

‘Of cures,’ said Jenny shortly.

‘Will Wally be on tap?’

‘I should think so. And his papa, unless he’s ferrying. There are not nearly as many visitors as I’d expected. O!’ exclaimed Jenny stopping short. ‘I suppose – will that be because of what’s happened? Yes, of course it will.’

‘We’ll go in,’ Alleyn said, producing the entrance money.

Trehern was at the receipt of custom.

He leered ingratiatingly at Jenny and gave Alleyn a glance in which truculence, subservience and fear were unattractively mingled. Wally stood behind his father. When Alleyn looked at him he grinned and held out his hands.

Jenny said: ‘Good morning, Mr Trehern. I’ve brought Mr Alleyn to have a look round. Hallo, Wally.’

Wally moved towards her: ‘You come and see me,’ he said. ‘You come to school. One day soon.’ He took her hand and nodded at her.

‘Look at that, now!’ Trehern ejaculated. ‘You was always the favourite, miss. Nobody to touch Miss Williams for our poor little chap, is there, then, Wal?’

There were three visitors in the parlour. They moved from one exhibit to another, listened, and looked furtively at Jenny.

Alleyn asked Wally if he ever went fishing. He shook his head contemptuously and, with that repetitive, so obviously conditioned, gesture, again exhibited his hands. A trained animal, Alleyn thought with distaste. He moved away and opened the Golden Record which was everything that might be expected of it: like a visitors’ book at a restaurant in which satisfied clients are invited to record their approval. He noted the dates where cures were said to have been effected and moved on.

The tourists left with an air of having had their money’s-worth by a narrow margin.

Alleyn said: ‘Mr Trehern, I am a police officer and have been asked to take charge of investigations into the death of Miss Elspeth Cost. I’d like to have a few words with Wally, if I may. Nothing to upset him. We just wondered if he could help us.’