‘And I’m afraid, Mr Parish, that under the circumstances I must report this case to the coroner.’

‘Do you mean there’ll have to be an inquest?’

‘If he thinks it necessary.’

‘And—and a post-mortem?’

‘If he orders it.’

‘Oh God!’ said Parish.

‘May I have your cousin’s full name and his address?’

Parish gave them. Dr Shaw looked solemn and said it would be a great loss to the legal profession. He then returned to the private bar. Oates produced his note-book and took the floor.

‘I’ll have all your names and addresses, if you please, gentlemen,’ he said.

‘What’s the use of saying that?’ demanded Mr Nark, rallying a little. ‘You know ‘em already. You took our statements. We’ve signed ‘em, and whether we should in law is a point I’m not sure of.’

‘Never mind if I know ‘em or don’t, George Nark,’ rejoined Oates. ‘I know my business and that’s quite sufficient. What’s your name?’

He took all their names and addresses and suggested that they go to bed. They filed out through a door into the passage. Oates then joined Dr Shaw in the private bar.

‘Hallo, Oates,’ said the doctor. ‘Where’s that dart?’

‘Legge picked the dart off the floor,’ Oates said.

He showed it to Dr Shaw. He had put it into an empty bottle and sealed it.

‘Good,’ said Dr Shaw, and put the bottle in his bag.

‘Now the remains of the brandy glass. They seem to have tramped it to smithereens. We’ll see if we can gather up some of the mess. There’s forceps and an empty jar in my bag. Where did the iodine come from?’

‘Abel keeps his first-aid outfit in that corner cupboard, sir. He’s a great one for iodine. Sloshed it all over Bob Legge’s face today when he cut himself with his razor.’

Dr Shaw stooped and picked up a small bottle that had rolled under the settle.

‘Here it is, I suppose.’ He sniffed at it. ‘Yes, that’s it. Where’s the cork?’

He hunted about until he found it.

‘Better take this too. And the brandy bottle. Good heavens, they seem to have done themselves remarkably proud. It’s nearly empty. Now where’s the first-aid kit?’

Dr Shaw went to the cupboard and stared up at the glass door.

‘What’s that bottle in there?’ he said sharply.

Oates joined them.

‘That, sir? Oh yes, I know what that is. It’s some stuff Abel got to kill the rats in the old stables. He mentioned it earlier this evening.’

Oates rubbed his nose vigorously.

‘Seems more like a week ago. There was the deceased gentleman standing drinks and chaffing Abel, not much more than a couple of hours ago. And now look at him. Ripe for coroner as you might say.’

‘Did Abel say what this rat-poison was?’