‘I wonder why people always say that when they know precisely what one does mean. However, I’d better tell you. A few minutes ago, immediately after Charles Templeton died, I talked to the nanny, Mrs Plumtree, who had been alone with him at the moment of his collapse. I told her that I believed she had uttered threats, that she had acted in this way because she thought Templeton was withholding information which would clear your son from suspicion of murder and that under the stress of this scene, Templeton suffered the heart attack from which he died. I told her your son was in no danger of arrest and she then admitted the whole story. I now tell you, too, that your son is in no danger. If you have withheld information for fear of incriminating him you may understand that you have acted mistakenly.’

Warrender seemed to be on the point of speaking but instead turned abruptly away and stood very still.

‘You refused to tell me of the threats Mrs Templeton uttered in the conservatory and I got them, after great difficulty it’s true, from the other people who were there. When I asked you if you had quarrelled with Charles Templeton you denied it. I believe that, in fact, you had quarrelled with him and that it happened while you were together in the study before I saw you for the first time. For the whole of that interview you scarcely so much as looked at each other. He was obviously distressed by your presence and you were violently opposed to rejoining him there. I must ask you again: had you quarrelled?’

Warrender muttered: ‘If you call it a quarrel.’

‘Was it about Richard Dakers?’ Alleyn waited. ‘I think it was,’ he said, ‘but of course that’s mere speculation and open, if you like, to contradiction.’

Warrender squared his shoulders. ‘What’s all this leading up to?’ he demanded. ‘An arrest?’

‘Surely you’ve heard of the usual warning. Come, sir, you did have a scene with Charles Templeton and I believe it was about Richard Dakers. Did you tell Templeton you were the father?’

‘I did not,’ he said quickly.

‘Did he know you were the father?’

‘Not … We agreed from the outset that it was better that he shouldn’t know. That nobody should know. Better on all counts.’

‘You haven’t really answered my question, have you? Shall I put it this way? Did Templeton learn for the first time, this afternoon, that Dakers is your son?’

‘Why should you suppose anything of the sort?’

‘Your normal relationship appears to have been happy, yet at this time, when one would have expected you all to come together in your common trouble, he showed a vehement disinclination to see Dakers – or you.’

Warrender made an unexpected gesture. He flung out his hands and lifted his shoulders. ‘Very well,’ he said.