‘But—’ Douglas broke off. ‘I suppose I made a mistake,’ he said. ‘I had it in my head that as I was going up to the house for the torches he came out of the lavender walk into my path and then moved on into the bottom path. And then I had the impression that as I returned with the torches he came hack from the bottom path. It was just then that I heard you two arguing about whether you’d stop in the bottom path or not. You were there then.’

‘I may have seen him,’ said Terence. ‘I was only there a short time. I don’t remember positively, but we didn’t speak—I mean we were not together. It was getting dark.’

‘Well, but Terry,’ said Ursula, ‘when I went into the bottom path you came towards me from the far end, the end nearest the lavender walk. If he was there at all, it would have been at that end.’

‘I don’t remember, Ursula. If he was there we didn’t speak and I’ve simply forgotten.’

‘Perhaps I was mistaken,’ said Douglas uncertainly. ‘But it doesn’t matter much, does it? Arthur was somewhere down there and so were both of you. I don’t mind admitting that the gentleman whose movements that evening I’ve always been anxious to trace, is our friend Mr Markins.’

‘And away we go,’ said Fabian cheerfully. ‘We’re on your territory now, sir.’

‘Good,’ said Alleyn; ‘what about Markins, Captain Grace? Let’s have it.’

‘It goes back some way,’ said Douglas. ‘It goes back, to be exact, to the last wool sale held in this country, which was early in 1939.’