But the hall was empty and very still. An oil lamp, turned low, burnt on the table. Alleyn saw that only two candles remained from the nightly muster of six. The drawing-room party had evidently gone to bed. Fabian must be upstairs. Using his torch, Alleyn went quietly up to the landing. Light showed under the doors of the girls’ rooms and, farther down the passage, under Douglas’s. There was none under Fabian’s door. Alleyn moved softly down the passage to the workroom. No light in there. He waited, listening, and then moved back towards the landing. A board creaked under his feet.

‘Hallo!’ called Douglas. ‘That you, Fab?’

‘It’s me,’ said Alleyn quietly.

Douglas’s door opened and he looked out. ‘Well, I wondered who it was,’ he said, eyeing Alleyn dubiously. ‘I mean it seemed funny.’

‘Another night prowler? Up to no good?’

‘Well, I must say you sounded a bit stealthy. Anything you want, sir?’

‘No,’ said Alleyn. ‘Just sleuthing. Go to bed.’

Douglas grinned and withdrew his head. ‘Enjoy yourself,’ Alleyn heard him say cheekily, and the door was shut.

Perhaps Fabian had left the cigarette case in his room and was already asleep. Odd, though, that he didn’t wait.

There was no cigarette case in his room. ‘Blast!’ Alleyn muttered. ‘He can’t find it! The miserable Albert’s pinched it. Blast!’

He crept downstairs again. A faint glimmer of light showed at the end of the hall. A door into the kitchen passage was open. He went through it, and met Markins in the silver pantry, candle in hand. ‘Just locking up, sir,’ said Markins. ‘Were you wanting me?’

‘I’m looking for Mr Losse.’

‘Wasn’t he up by the men’s quarters with you, Mr Alleyn? About ten minutes ago.’

‘He was probably there, but I wasn’t.’

‘That’s funny,’ Markins said, staring at him. ‘I’d ’ave sworn it was you.’

‘He was wearing my coat.’

‘Is that the case? Who was the other gentleman, then?’

‘Not me. What other gentleman?’

Markins set his candle down and shut the door. ‘I was going up to the manager’s cottage,’ he said. ‘I wanted to have a word with Mr Johns. Cliff had just gone back there. The cottage is up the hill at the back of the annexe, you know. When I came out of the back door here, I thought I saw you on the main track to the men’s quarters, going towards the annexe. I thought I’d cut across and see you, and I started up the path from the back door. You lose sight of the other track for a bit. I heard you call out something, and I sung out, “Hallo, sir?” Then I heard you run downhill. When I came up to where you can see the track, you weren’t in sight.’