‘I think so. Fox, I think we’ve had Ancreton for the moment, but I’m going to ask you to stay behind and warn the parson about an exhumation. Return to Katzenjammer Castle in the morning and ask the inmates if they’ve any objection to having their prints taken. They won’t have any if they’re not completely dotty. Bailey can come down by the morning train and work round the house for the stuff we want there. Get him to check prints on any relevant surfaces. It’ll all be utterly useless no doubt, but it had better be done. I’ll go back to the Yard. I want to learn Messrs Mortimer and Loame’s recipe for tasteful embalming. As soon as we get the exhumation order through we’ll come down and meet you here. There’s a train this evening. Let’s have a meal at the pub and then I’ll catch it. I was going to see Dr Withers again, but I fancy that particular interview had better wait. I want to get the medicine bottle and poor old Carabbas up to London.’

‘What’s the betting, Mr Alleyn? Arsenic in the medicine or not?’

‘I’m betting not.’

‘Routine job. It’ll be a nuisance if they don’t find anything, though. Not a hope with the Thermos.’

‘No, damn it.’

They walked in silence. Frost tingled in the dusk and hardened the ground under their feet. A pleasant smell of burning wood laced the air and from Ancreton woods came the sound of wings.

‘What a job!’ Alleyn said suddenly.

‘Ours, sir?’

‘Yes, ours. Walking down a country lane with a dead cat in a boot-box and working out procedure for disentombing the body of an old man.’

‘Somebody’s got to do it.’

‘Certainly. But the details are unlovely.’

‘Not much doubt about it, sir, is there? Homicide?’

‘Not much doubt, old thing. No.’

‘Well,’ said Fox, after a pause, ‘as it stands, the evidence all points one way. It’s not one of those funny affairs where you have to clear up half a dozen suspects.’

‘But why kill him? She knew the Will was in her favour. She wanted to be Lady Ancred. She knew he wasn’t likely to live much longer. Why incur the appalling risk when all she had to do was marry him and wait?’

‘He was always changing his Will. Perhaps she thought he might do it again.’

‘She seems to have had him pretty well where she wanted him.’

‘Might she be all that keen on the present baronet?’

‘Not she,’ said Alleyn. ‘Not she.’

‘Hard to imagine, I must say. Suppose, though, that Miss O. is not the party we’ll be after, and suppose we know the old gentleman was done away with. Who’s left? Not Sir Cedric, because he knew about the second Will.’

‘Unless,’ said Alleyn, ‘he gambled on marrying the heiress.’