‘In there. Wally, tell me.’

He leant his smeared face towards her and she stooped her head. Alleyn heard him whisper: ‘It’s a secret.’

‘What is?’

‘They stones. Like my dad said.’

‘Is the rock a secret, too?’

He pulled back from her. ‘I dunno nothing about no rock,’ he said vacantly. ‘I want another.’

‘Was Miss Cost at the Spring?’ Alleyn asked.

Wally scowled at him.

‘Wally,’ Jenny said, taking his hand, ‘did you see Miss Cost? In the rain? This morning? Was Miss Cost at the Spring?’

‘At the fustyvell.’

‘Yes, at the festival. Was she at the Spring this morning too? In the rain?’

‘This is getting positively fugal,’ Alleyn muttered.

‘This morning,’ Jenny repeated.

‘Not this morning. At the fustyvell,’ said Wally. ‘I want another one.’

‘In a minute,’ Alleyn said. ‘Soon. Did you see a man this morning in a motor-boat?’ And, by a sort of compulsion, he added: ‘In the rain?’

‘My dad’s got the biggest launch.’

‘Not your dad’s launch. Another man in another launch. Dr Maine. Do you know Dr Maine?’

‘Doctor,’ said Wally vacantly.

‘Yes. Did you see him?’

‘I dunno.’

Alleyn said to Jenny: ‘Maine noticed him at about half past seven.’ He waited for a moment and then pressed on: ‘Wally: where were you when you saw the lady at the Spring? Where were you?’

Wally pushed his forefinger round and round the table, leaving a greasy trail on the plastic surface. He did this with exaggerated violence and apparently no interest.

‘You couldn’t get in, could you?’ Alleyn suggested. ‘You couldn’t get through the gates.’

With his left hand, Wally groped under his smock. He produced a number of entrance discs, let them fall on the table and shoved them about with violent jabs from his forefinger. They clattered to the floor.

‘Did you go into the Spring this morning?’

He began to make a high whimpering sound.

‘It’s no good,’ Jenny said. ‘When he starts that it’s no good. He’ll get violent. He may have an attack. Really, you mustn’t. Really. I promise, you mustn’t.’

‘Very well,’ Alleyn said. ‘I’ll get him his ice-cream.’

‘Never mind, Wally, it’s all right,’ Jenny said. ‘It’s all right now. Isn’t it?’

He looked at her doubtfully and then, with that too familiar gesture, reached his hands out towards her.

‘O don’t!’ Jenny whispered. ‘O Wally, don’t show me your hands.’

II

When Wally had absorbed his second ice-cream they left the tea-room by a door that, as it turned out, led into the back garden.

Coombe said: ‘We’ve come the wrong way,’ but Alleyn was looking at a display of greyish undergarments hung out to dry. A woman of unkempt appearance was in the yard. She stared at them with bleared disfavour.

‘Private,’ she said and pointed to a dividing fence. ‘You’m trespassing.’