‘The rest, sir? I didn’t see The Honourable Darragh till the morning. The Honourable Darragh, sir, behaved very sensible. Not but what she wasn’t in a bit of a quiver, but being a stout lady, you noticed it more. Her cheeks jiggled something chronic when she talked about it, but she was very sensible. She’s a great one for talking, sir, and it’s my belief that when she got over the surprise she fair revelled in it.’

‘Really? And now we’re left as usual with Mr George Nark.’

‘Nothing but vomit and hiccough, sir. Drunk as an owl.’

‘I see. Well, Oates, you’ve given us a clear enough picture of the actors. Now for the dart. Where was the dart when you found it?’

‘Legge found it, sir. I asked for it almost immediate, sir, but they was all that flustered they paid no heed to me. ‘Cepting Legge who had been going on about, “was it the dart that did it?” and, “had he killed the man?” and, “wasn’t it lockjaw?” and, “he must have shifted his finger,” and so forth; and so soon as I asked for the dart he stooped down and peered about and then he says, “there it is!” and I saw it and he picked it up from where it had fallen. It was stained and still looked damp, sir. Blood. And I suppose, sir, the poison.’

Oates paused and then said, ‘If I may take the liberty, sir.’

‘Yes, Oates?’

‘They all says, sir, that Mr Watchman threw that there dart down, sir. They say he threw it down ‘tother side of the table.’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, now, sir, it was laying on the floor.’

‘What?’ exclaimed Fox.

‘It was,’ repeated Oates, ‘a-laying on the floor. I saw it. Ax Legge, he’ll bear me out.’

‘Whereabouts?’ asked Alleyn sharply.

‘Behind the table, sir, like they said, and well away from where they had been standing. The table was betwixt the settle and the board.’

‘I see,’ said Alleyn. And then the wildest hopes of Dick Oates was realized. The words with which he had soothed himself to sleep, the words that he heard most often in his dearest dreams, were spoken unmistakably by the Man from Higher Up.

‘By George,’ said Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn, ‘I believe you’ve got it!’

CHAPTER 12
Curious Behaviour of Mr Legge

On that first night in Ottercombe, from the time Oates left them until half-past eleven, Alleyn and Fox thrashed out the case and debated a plan of action. Alleyn was now quite certain that Watchman had been murdered.

‘Unless there’s a catch, Br’er Fox, and I can’t spot it if there is. The rat hole, the dart, the newspaper, and the general evidence ought to give us “who”, but we’re still in the dark about “how”. There are those bits of melted glass, now.’