‘That wasn’t quite what I meant. Was it after you had given him the brandy that Mr Watchman uttered the single word “poisoned”?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you get the impression that he spoke of the brandy?’

‘No. I don’t know if your sixth sense will tell you I’m lying, but it seemed to me he tried to take the brandy, and perhaps did swallow a little, and that it was when he found he couldn’t drink that he said—that one word. He said it between his clenched teeth. I had neverseen such a look of terror and despair. Then he jerked his hand. Miss Darragh was going to bandage it. Just at that moment the lights went out.’

‘For how long were they out?’

‘Nobody knows. It’s impossible to tell. I can’t. It seemed an age. Somebody clicked the switch. I remember that. To see if it had been turned off accidentally, I suppose. It was a nightmare. The rain sounded like drums. There was broken glass everywhere—crunch, crunch, squeak. And his voice. Not like a human voice. Like a cat mewing. And his heels, drumming on the settle. And everybody shouting in the dark.’

Decima spoke rapidly and twisted her fingers together.

‘It’s funny,’ she said, ‘I either can’t talk about it at all, or I can’t stop talking about it. Once you start, you go on and on. It’s rather queer. I suppose he was in great pain. I suppose it was torture. As bad as the rack, or disembowelling. I’ve got a terror of physical pain. I’d recant anything first.’

‘Not,’ said Alleyn, ‘your political views?’

‘No,’ agreed Decima, ‘not those. I’d contrive to commit suicide or something. Perhaps it was not pain that made him cry like that and drum with his heels. Perhaps it was only reflex something. Nerves.’

‘I think,’ said Alleyn, ‘that your own nerves have had a pretty shrewd jolt.’

‘What do you know about nerves?’ demanded Decima with surprising venom. ‘Nerves! These things are a commonplace to you. Luke Watchman’s death-throes are so much data. You expect me to give you a neat statement about them. Describe in my own words the way he clenched his teeth and drew back his lips.’

‘No,’ said Alleyn. ‘I haven’t asked you about those things. I have asked you two questions of major importance. One was about your former relationship with Watchman and the other about the brandy you gave him before he died.’

‘I’ve answered you. If that’s all you want to know you’ve got it. I can’t stand any more of this. Let me—’

The voice stopped as if someone had switched it off. She looked beyond Alleyn and Fox to the brow of the hillock. Her eyes were dilated.

Alleyn turned. Norman Cubitt stood against the sky.

‘Norman!’ cried Decima.