‘I’m on my way to sign in,’ Alleyn said cheerfully. ‘Can you spare me a few minutes? Routine, as usual. One’s never done with it.’

Barrimore stared dully at him and then opened the door of the parlour. ‘In here,’ he said.

Margaret Barrimore had left the faintest recollection of her scent behind her but this was soon lost in the Major’s blended aura of Scotch-cigar-and-hair-lotion.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘What’s it, this time? Made any arrests?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Everybody nattering about the boy, I s’ppose. You’d think they’d all got their knife into the poor kid.’

‘You don’t agree?’

‘I don’t. He’s too damn’ simple, f’one thing. No harm in him, f’r’nother. You get to know ‘bout chap’s character in a regiment. Always pick the bad ‘uns. He’s not.’

‘Have you any theories yourself?’

The Major predictably said: ‘No names, no pack drill.’

‘Quite. But I’d be glad of your opinion.’

‘You wouldn’t, old boy. You’d hate it.’

Now, Alleyn thought, this is it. I know what this is going to be. ‘I?’ he said, ‘why?’

‘Heard what they’re saying in the village?’

‘No. What are they saying?’

‘I don’t necessarily agree, you know. Still: they hated each other’s guts, those two. Face it.’

‘Which two?’

‘The females. Beg pardon: the ladies. Miss P. and Miss C. And she was there, old boy. Can’t get away from it. She was on the spot. Hanging up her bloody notice.’

‘How do you know?’ Alleyn said and was delighted to speak savagely.

‘Here! Steady! Steady, the Buffs!’

‘The path has been closed. No one has been allowed near the enclosure. How do you know Miss Pride was there? How do you know she hung up her notice?’

‘By God, sir –’

‘I’ll tell you. You were there yourself.’

The blood had run into patches in the Major’s jowls. ‘You must be mad,’ he said.

‘You were on the path. You took shelter behind an outcrop of stone by the last bend. After Miss Pride had left and returned to the hotel, you came out and went to the enclosure.’

He was taking chances again, but, looking at that outfaced blinking man, he knew he was justified.

‘You read the notice, lost your temper and threw it into the mud. The important thing is that you were there. If you want to deny it you are, of course, at perfect liberty to do so.’

Barrimore drew his brows together and went through a parody of brushing his moustache. He then said: ‘Mind if I get a drink?’

‘You’d better not, but I can’t stop you.’