"Plenty of Mr. Surbonadier's, sir, and something else that's very indistinct and old. I'm having an enlarged photograph taken and can't give an opinion till I've got it. It may turn out to be the deceased, too."

"Let me know at once if it is, Bailey. I'd like to see the photograph."

"Very good, sir."

Bailey was at the door when Alleyn stopped him.

"By the way, Bailey," he said, "I suppose you've heard that we couldn't get any forrader with the cartridges. Inspector Fox tells me every gunsmith's and sports shop in the country has been probed."

"That's right, sir. Very unsatisfactory," said Bailey, and withdrew.

"Alleyn," said Nigel, after a pause, "can't you force Props to say whom he saw moving round in the dark?"

"I could try, but he can so easily say he doesn't know who it was. His words were: 'If I thought I saw a bloke, or it might have been a woman, moving round in the dark…' Not very conclusive."

"But surely he now thinks you've got the wrong man, and will tell you who it was, to save Saint."

"He's very anxious," said Alleyn, "to save—the murderer."

"Who is probably Saint," said Nigel. "I see. But what about Stephanie Vaughan? Alleyn, if you'd heard her as I did——Oh, my God, I believe she did it! I believe she did."

"Look here, Bathgate. Could you take a day off tomorrow and go into the country on a job for me?"

"Not possible," said the astonished Nigel. "What sort of job? I've got my own job, you might remember."

"I want you to go to High Wycombe and see if you can trace a man called Septimus Carewe."

"You want to get rid of me," said Nigel indignantly. "Septimus Carewe, my foot!" he added with conviction.

"I mean it."

"What on earth for!"

"I'm uneasy about you."

"Bosh!"

"Have it your own way."

"What are you doing to-morrow, may I ask?"

"I," said Alleyn, "am putting on a show at the Unicorn."

"What the devil do you mean?"

"The company is under notice to report at various police stations every day. They have all been asked to report at the Unicorn at eleven to-morrow. I intend to hold a reconstruction of the murder."

"As you did in the Frantock case?"

"The conditions are very different. In this instance I am simply using the characters to prove my theory. In the Arthur Wilde case I forced his confession. This, unless these unspeakable mummers insist on dramatising themselves, will be less theatrical."

"I shall be there, however."

"I don't want you there."

"Why ever not?"

"It's a very unpleasant business. I loathe homicide cases and the result of this investigation will be perfectly beastly."

"If I could stand the Frantock case, when my own cousin was murdered, I can stand this."

"You'd much better keep away."

"I do think you're bloody," said Nigel fretfully.

Fox came in.

"Hullo," said Alleyn. "Everything fixed up?"