‘What I resent,’ Pinky said suddenly, ‘is being left in the dark. What happened? Why the mystery? Why not accident? All we’ve been told is that poor Mary died of a dose of pest killer. It’s hideous and tragic and we’re all shocked beyond words, but if we’re being kept here under suspicion’ – she brought her clenched fist down on the table – ‘we’ve a right to know why!’

She had raised her not inconsiderable voice to full projection point. None of them had heard the door from the hall open.

‘Every right,’ Alleyn said, coming forward. ‘And I’m sorry that the explanation has been so long delayed.’

The men had half-risen but he lifted his hand and they sat back again. Anelida, for all her anxiety, had time to reflect that he was possessed of an effortless authority before which even Gantry, famous for this quality, became merely one of a controllable group. The attentive silence that descended upon them was of exactly the same kind as that which Gantry himself commanded at rehearsals. Even Colonel Warrender, though he raised his eyebrows, folded his arms and looked uncommonly portentous, found nothing to say.

‘I think,’ Alleyn said, ‘that we will make this a round-the-table discussion.’ He sat in the vacant chair at the end of the table. ‘It gives one,’ he explained, with a smile at Pinky Cavendish, ‘a spurious air of importance. We shall need five more chairs, Philpott.’

PC Philpott placed them. Nobody spoke.

Fox came in from the hall bringing Florence and Old Ninn in his wake. Old Ninn was attired in a red flannel gown. Florence had evidently redressed herself rather sketchily and covered the deficiencies with an alpaca overall. Her hair was trapped in a tortuous system of tin curlers.

‘Please sit down,’ Alleyn said. ‘I’m sorry about dragging you in again. It won’t, I hope, be for long.’

Florence and Ninn, both looking angry and extremely reluctant and each cutting the other dead, sat on opposite sides of the table, leaving empty chairs between themselves and their nearest neighbours.

‘Where’s Dr Harkness, Fox?’

‘Back in the conservatory, I believe, sir. We thought it better not to rouse him.’

‘I’m afraid we must do so now.’

Curtains had been drawn across the conservatory wall. Fox disappeared behind them. Stertorous, unlovely and protesting noises were heard and presently he reappeared with Dr Harkness, now bloated with sleep and very tousled.

‘Oh, torment!’ he said in a thick voice. ‘Oh, hideous condition!’

‘Would you,’ Alleyn asked, ‘be very kind and see if you think Mr Templeton is up to joining us? If there’s any doubt about it we won’t disturb him. He’s in the study.’