‘Yesterday evening,’ said Alleyn, ‘Abel Pomeroy opened a bottle of a very sound sherry. Fox and I had a glass each. At a quarter to one today Abel decanted the sherry. He, Fox and I had a glass each after it was decanted. George Nark was in the bar. Later on, Miss Darragh, Legge, Parish, Cubitt, and Will Pomeroy came in and we talked about the sherry. They all knew it was for our private use. Some forty minutes ago, Abel poured out two glasses. Fox drank his and within half a minute he was taken very ill. The symptoms were those of cyanide poisoning. I’ll swear Abel didn’t put anything in the glasses. There’s Fox’s glass. We’ll do our stuff with what’s left. I’ve covered it but we’d better get the dregs into an airtight bottle. You’ll find one in my bag there. There’s a funnel on the dressing-table. D’you mind doing it? Clean the funnel out first. I used it for the stuff in my glass.’

Harper did this.

‘It’s a bad blunder,’ he said. ‘What good would it do him? Suppose you’d both been killed? I mean, it’s foolish. Is it panic or spite or both?’

‘Neither, I imagine. I see it as a last attempt to bolster up the accident theory. The idea is that in the same mysterious way as cyanide got on the dart so it got into the decanter. The decanter, you see, was brought out from the corner cupboard. Mrs Ives had washed it in about two dozen changes of boiling water. I don’t think anybody but Nark and Abel were aware of this. We were no doubt supposed to think the decanter was tainted by being in the cupboard.’

Superintendent Harper uttered a vulgar and incredulous word.

‘I know,’ agreed Alleyn. ‘Of course it was. But if Fox and (or) I had popped off, you’d have had a devil of a job proving it was murder. Oh, it’s a blunder, all right. It shows us two things. The murderer must have kept a bit of cyanide up his sleeve and he must have visited the private bar after Abel decanted the sherry at a quarter to one this afternoon. We will now search their rooms. We won’t find anything, but we’d better do it. I’ll just see how Fox is getting on.’

Fox, white and shaken, was sitting on the edge of the bath. Dr Shaw was washing his hands.

‘He’ll do all right now,’ said Dr Shaw. ‘Better go to bed and take it easy.’

‘I’m damned if I do,’ said Fox. ‘Excuse me, sir, but I’m damned if I do.’

Alleyn took him by the elbow.

‘Blast your eyes,’ he said, ‘you’ll do as you’re told. Come on.’