A sharp click, a cry from Dimitri, and then the figures resolved themselves into a sort of tableau: Dimitri, hand-cuffed and held by three men, against the desk; Davidson in the centre of the room with Alleyn, Fox and a plainclothes man grasping his arms behind his back; the Assistant Commissioner, between the two groups, like a distinguished sort of referee.

‘Murderer!’ screamed Dimitri. ‘Treacherous, filthy assassin! I confess! Gentlemen, I confess! I have worked for him for seven years and now, now, now he will stand aside and let me go to the gallows for the crime he has himself committed. I will tell you everything. Everything.’

‘Speak up, Rory,’ said the AC.

‘Daniel Davidson,’ said Alleyn, ‘I arrest you for the murder of Lord Robert Gospell, and I warn you…’

CHAPTER THIRTY

Confessions from Troy

‘I THOUGHT,’ SAID ALLEYN, ‘that you would like to know at once, Mildred.’

Lady Mildred Potter shook her head, not so much in disagreement as from a sort of general hopelessness.

‘It was nice of you to come, Roderick. But I’m afraid I simply cannot take it in. Sir Daniel has always been perfectly charming to both of us. Bunchy liked him very much. He told me so. And there’s no doubt Sir Daniel did wonders with my indigestion. Quite cured it. Are you sure you are not mistaken?’

‘Quite sure, I am afraid, Mildred. You see, Dimitri has confessed that Davidson has been in a sort of infamous partnership with him for seven years. Davidson knew something about Dimitri in the first instance, I think. That’s probably how he managed to get his hold over Dimitri. Davidson has been extremely careful. He has found the data but he has left Dimitri to carry out the practical work. Davidson saw the open drawer and the letter in Carrados’s writing-cabinet. Davidson came in on the scene between Carrados and Bridget. He was careful never to be left alone in the room himself, but he told Dimitri about the secret drawer and instructed Dimitri how to steal the letter. He told Dimitri that there might be something interesting there. Dimitri did all the dirty work. He collected the handbags of the blackmailed ladies. He wrote the letters. Sometimes he got the ideas. Mrs Halcut-Hackett’s trinket-box was one of Dimitri’s brightest ideas, I imagine.’

‘I’m lost in it, Roderick. Troy, darling, do you understand?’

Alleyn looked at Troy, sitting on the floor at Mildred’s feet.

‘I think I’m beginning to understand,’ said Troy.

‘Well, go on, Roderick,’ said Mildred drearily.