Dr Shaw was not the tallest man there but he dominated the scene. He was pale and baldish and wore glasses. His intelligence appeared in his eyes which were extremely bright and a vivid blue. His lower lip protruded. He had an unexpectedly deep voice, a look of serio-comic solemnity, and a certain air of distinction. He looked directly and with an air of thoughtfulness, at each of the men before him.

‘His relations must be told,’ he said.

Parish moved forward. ‘I’m his cousin,’ he said, ‘and his nearest relation.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Dr Shaw. ‘You’re Mr Parish?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes. Sad business, this.’

‘What was it?’ asked Parish. ‘What happened? He was perfectly well. Why did he—I don’t understand.’

‘Tell me this,’ said Dr Shaw. ‘Did your cousin become unwell as soon as he received this injury from the dart?’

‘Yes. At least he seemed to turn rather faint. I didn’t think much of it because he’s always gone like that at the sight of his own blood.’

‘Like what? Can you describe his appearance?’

‘Well, he—O God, what did he do, Norman?’

Cubitt said, ‘He just said “Got me,” when the dart stuck, and then afterwards pulled it out and threw it down. He turned terribly pale. I think he sort of collapsed on that seat.’

‘I’ve seen a man with tetanus,’ said Legge suddenly. ‘He looked just the same. For God’s sake, doctor, d’you think he could have taken tetanus from that dart?’

‘I can’t tell you that off-hand, I’m afraid. What happened next?’

Dr Shaw looked at Cubitt.

‘Well, Abel here—Mr Pomeroy—got a bandage and a bottle of iodine and put some iodine on the finger. Then Miss Darragh, a lady who’s staying here, said she’d bandage the finger, and while she was getting out the bandage Miss Moore gave him brandy.’

‘Did he actually take the brandy?’

‘I think he took a little but after she’d tipped the glass up he clenched his teeth and knocked it out of her hand.’

‘Complain of pain?’

‘No. He looked frightened.’

‘And then? After that?’

‘After that? Well, just at the moment, really, the lights went out, and when they went up again he seemed much worse. He was in a terrible state.’

‘A fit,’ said Mr Nark, speaking for the first time. ‘The man had a fit. Ghastly!’ He belched uproariously.

‘There’s a very strong smell of brandy,’ said Dr Shaw.

‘It spilt,’ explained Mr Nark hurriedly. ‘It’s all over the floor in there.’

‘Where’s the dart, Oates? asked Dr Shaw.

‘In there, sir. I’ve put it in a clean bottle and corked it up.’

‘Good. I’d better have it. You’ll have to leave the room in there as it is, Mr Pomeroy, until I’ve had a word with the superintendent. The body may be removed in the morning.’

‘Very good, sir.’