The evening was warm and Parish was clad in shorts and a thin blue shirt. He wore these garments with such an air that the makers might well have implored him to wear their shorts and shirts, free of cost, in and out of season for the rest of his life. His legs were olive brown and slightly glossy, the hair on his olive brown chest was golden brown. He looked burnished and groomed to the last inch. The hair on his head, a darker golden brown, was ruffled, for all the world as if his dresser had darted after him into the wings, and run a practised hand through his locks. There was something almost embarrassing in so generous a display of masculine beauty. He combined in his appearance all the most admired aspects of a pukka sahib, a Greek god, and a wholesome young Englishman. Fox came after him like an anti-climax in good serviceable worsted.

‘Ah, good evening, Inspector,’ said Parish.

‘Good evening,’ said Alleyn. ‘I’m sorry to worry you.’

Parish’s glance said, a little too plainly: ‘Hallo, so you’re a gentleman.’ He came forward and, with an air of manly frankness, extended his hand.

‘I’m very glad to do anything I can,’ he said.

He sat on the arm of a chair and looked earnestly from Alleyn to Fox.

‘We hoped for this,’ he said. ‘I wish to God they’d called you in at once.’

‘The local men,’ Alleyn murmured, ‘have done very well.’

‘Oh, they’ve done what they could, poor old souls,’ said Parish. ‘No doubt they’re very sound at bottom, but it’s rather a long way before one strikes bottom. Considering my cousin’s position I think it was obvious that the Yard should be consulted.’

He looked directly at Alleyn and said: ‘But I know you!’

‘Do you?’ said Alleyn politely. ‘I don’t think—’

‘I know you!’ Parish repeated dramatically. ‘Wait a moment. By George, yes, of course. You’re the—I’ve seen your picture in a book of famous trials.’ He turned to Fox with the air of a Prince Regent.

‘What is his name?’ demanded Parish.

‘This is Mr Alleyn, sir,’ said Fox, with the trace of a grin at his superior.

‘Alleyn! My God, yes, of course; Alleyn!’

‘Fox,’ said Alleyn austerely, ‘be good enough to shut the door.’ He waited until this was done and then addressed himself to the task of removing the frills from the situation.

‘Mr Parish,’ Alleyn said, ‘we have been sent down here to make inquiries about the death of your cousin. The local superintendent has given us a very full and explicit account of the circumstances surrounding his death but we are obliged to go over the details for ourselves.’

Parish made an expressive gesture, showing them the palms of his hands. ‘But, of course,’ he said.

‘Yes. Well, we thought that before we went any further we should ask to see you.’