‘I think he’s careless. I thought at the time he ought to have asked more questions about my father-in-law’s death. He’s too much wrapped up in his horse racing and bridge and not interested enough in his patients. However,’ she added, with a short laugh, ‘my father-in-law liked him well enough to leave more to him than to some of his own flesh and blood.’

‘About the medicine,’ Alleyn prompted.

‘She wouldn’t have interfered with it. Why should she use it when she had the Thermos in her own hands?’

‘Have you any idea where she could have found the tin of rat-bane?’

‘She complained of rats when she first came here. I asked Barker to set poison and told him there was a tin in the storeroom. She made a great outcry and said she had a horror of poison.’

Alleyn glanced at Fox, who instantly looked extremely bland.

‘So,’ Milly went on, ‘I told Barker to set traps. When we wanted rat-bane, weeks afterwards, for Bracegirdle, the tin had gone. It was an unopened tin, to the best of my knowledge. It had been in the store-room for years.’

‘It must have been an old brand,’ Alleyn agreed. ‘I don’t think arsenical rat-bane is much used nowadays.’

He stood up and Fox rose with him. ‘I think that’s all,’ he said. ‘No,’ said Millamant strongly, ‘it’s not all. I want to know what the woman has said about my son.’

‘She suggested they were partners in the practical jokes and he admitted it.’

‘I warn you,’ she said, and for the first time her voice was unsteady. ‘I warn you, she’s trying to victimize him. She’s worked on his kindness and good nature and his love of fun. I warn you—’

The door at the far end of the room opened and Cedric looked in. His mother’s back was turned to him, and, unconscious of his presence, she went on talking. Her shaking voice repeated over and over again that he had been victimized. Cedric’s gaze moved from her to Alleyn, who was watching him. He sketched a brief grimace, deprecating, rueful, but his lips were colourless and the effect was of a distortion. He came in and shut the door with great delicacy. He carried a much be-labelled suitcase, presumably Miss Orrincourt’s, which, after a further grimace at Alleyn, he placed behind a chair. He then minced across the carpet.

‘Darling Milly,’ he said, and his hands closed on his mother’s shoulders. She gave a startled cry. ‘There now! I made you jump. So sorry.’

Millamant covered his hands with her own. He waited for a moment, submissive to her restless and possessive touch. ‘What is it, Milly?’ he asked. ‘Who’s been victimizing little Me? Is it Sonia?’

‘Ceddie?’