‘And as far as this old-fashioned book on embalming goes, Mr Alleyn, I ask myself if perhaps somebody mightn’t have picked it up since the funeral and got round to wondering about it like Mrs Alleyn has. You say these good people weren’t very keen on Miss Sonia Orrincourt and are probably feeling rather sore about the late old gentleman’s Will. They seem to be a highly-strung, excitable lot.’

‘But I don’t think I’m a particularly highly-strung, excitable lot, Mr Fox,’ said Troy. ‘And I got the idea too.’

‘There!’ said Fox, clicking his tongue. ‘Putting my foot in it as usual, aren’t I, sir?’

‘Tell us what else you ask yourself,’ said Alleyn.

‘Why, whether one of these disappointed angry people hasn’t let his imagination, or more likely hers, get the upper hand, and written this letter on the spur of the moment.’

‘But what about the practical jokes, Mr Fox?’ said Troy.

‘Very silly, mischievous behaviour. Committing a nuisance. If the little girl didn’t do them, and it looks as if she couldn’t have done them at all, then somebody’s brought off an unpleasant trick. Spiteful,’ Fox added severely. ‘Trying to prejudice the old gentleman against her, as you suggest, I dare say. But that doesn’t necessarily mean murder. Why should it?’

‘Why, indeed!’ said Alleyn, taking him by the arm. ‘You’re exactly what we needed in this house, Br’er Fox. Let’s all have a drink.’ He took his wife on his other arm, and together they returned to the sitting-room. The telephone rang as Troy entered and she answered it. Alleyn held Fox back and they stared at each other.

‘Very convincing performance, Fox. Thank you.’

‘Rum go, sir, all the same, don’t you reckon?’

‘Too bloody rum by half. Come on.’

When they went into the room Troy put her hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone and turned to them. Her face was white.

‘Rory,’ she said, ‘it’s Thomas Ancred. He wants to come and see you. He says they’ve all had letters. He says he’s made a discovery. He wants to come. What shall I say?’

‘I’ll speak to him,’ said Alleyn. ‘He can see me at the Yard in the morning, damn him.’

CHAPTER TEN

Bombshell from Thomas

THOMAS ANCRED ARRIVED punctually at nine o’clock, the hour Alleyn had appointed. Fox was present at the interview, which took place in Alleyn’s room.

Troy had the painter’s trick of accurate description, and she had been particularly good on Thomas. Alleyn felt he was already familiar with that crest of fine hair, those eyes wide open and palely astonished, that rather tight, small mouth, and the mild meandering voice.