‘No,’ Warrender said, ‘he can’t know. Be a shock.’

Alleyn began to ask about Richard Dakers and found that they were both unwilling to talk about him. When had he last been seen? Charles remembered he had been in the conservatory. Warrender, pressed, admitted that Richard was in the hall when Browne and his niece went away. Odd, Alleyn thought, that, as the climax of the party approached, no less than five of Miss Bellamy’s most intimate friends should turn their backs on her to say goodbye to two people whom her husband had described as comparative strangers. He hinted as much.

Warrender glanced at Charles and then said: ‘Point of fact they’re friends of Richard Dakers. His guests in a way. Naturally he wanted to see them off.’

‘And having done so, he returned for the speeches and the cake-cutting ceremony?’

‘I – ah … Not exactly,’ Warrender said.

‘No?’

‘No. Ah, speaking out of school, isn’t it? But I rather fancy there’s an attraction. He – ah – he went out – they live in the next house.’

‘Not,’ Alleyn ejaculated, ‘Octavius Browne of the Pegasus?’

‘Point of fact, yes,’ Warrender said, looking astonished.

‘And Mr Dakers went out with them?’

‘After them.’

‘But you think he meant to join them?’

‘Yes,’ he said woodenly.

‘And is perhaps with them still?’

Warrender was silent.

‘Wouldn’t he mind missing the ceremony?’ Alleyn asked.

Warrender embarked on an incomprehensible spate of broken phrases.

‘If he’s there,’ Charles said to Alleyn, ‘he ought to be told.’

‘I’ll go,’ Warrender said, and moved to the door.

Alleyn said: ‘One minute, if you please.’

‘What?’

‘Shall we just see if he is there? It’ll save trouble, won’t it? May I use the telephone?’

He was at the telephone before they could reply and looking up the number.

‘I know Octavius quite well,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Splendid chap, isn’t he?’

Warrender looked at him resentfully. ‘If the boy’s there,’ he said, ‘I’d prefer to tell him about this myself.’

‘Of course,’ Alleyn agreed heartily. ‘Ah, here we are.’ He dialled a number. They heard a voice at the other end.

‘Hallo,’ Alleyn said. ‘Is Mr Richard Dakers there by any chance?’

‘No,’ the voice said. ‘I’m sorry. He left some time ago.’

‘Really? How long would you say?’

The voice replied indistinguishably.

‘I see. Thank you so much. Sorry to have bothered you.’

He hung up. ‘He was only with them for a very short time,’ he said. ‘He must have left, it seems, before this thing happened. They imagined he came straight back here.’

Warrender and Templeton were, he thought, at peculiar pains not to look at each other or at him. He said lightly: ‘Isn’t that a little odd? Wouldn’t you suppose he’d be sure to attend the birthday speeches?’