Fox said: ‘Better use the other phone.’ He replaced the receiver very gingerly and went into the hall.

Mr Period was not dead. When Alleyn bent over him, he could hear his breathing – a faint snoring sound. The pulse was barely perceptible.

Fox came back. ‘On his way,’ he said. ‘Will I search outside?’

‘Right. We’d better not move him. I’ll do the house.’

It was perfectly quiet and empty of living persons. Alleyn went from room to room, opening and shutting doors, receiving the indefinable smells of long-inhabited places, listening, looking and finding nothing. Mrs Mitchell’s room smelt stuffily of hairpins and Alfred Belt’s of boot polish. Mr Period’s bedroom smelt of hair lotion and floor polish and Mr Cartell’s of blankets and soap. Nothing was out of place anywhere in Mr Period’s house. Alleyn returned to the library as Fox came in.

‘Nothing,’ Fox said. ‘Nobody, anywhere.’

‘There’s the instrument,’ Alleyn said.

It was the bronze paper-weight in the form of a fish that Desirée had given Mr Period. It lay on the carpet close to his dangling hand.

‘I’ll get our chaps,’ Fox said. ‘They’re in the pub. Here’s the doctor.’

Dr Elekton came in looking as if his professional manner had been fully extended.

‘What now, for God’s sake?’ he said and went straight to his patient. Alleyn watched him make his examination which did not take long.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘On the face of it he’s severely concussed. I don’t think there’s any extensive cranial injury but we’ll have to wait. Half an inch either way and it’d have been a different matter. We’d better get him out of this. Where’s this man of his. Alfred?’

‘At a church social,’ said Alleyn. ‘We could get a mattress. Or what about the sofa in the drawing-room?’

‘All right. Better than manhandling him all over the shop.’

Fox and Alleyn carried Mr Period into the drawing-room and propped him up on the sofa, Dr Elekton supporting his head.

‘Will he speak?’ Alleyn asked Dr Elekton.

‘Might or might not. Your guess is as good as mine. There’s nothing we can do at the moment. He may have to go to hospital. I’d better get a nurse. What’s the story, if there is a story?’

‘Somebody chucked a bronze paper-weight at him. You’d better look at it. Don’t touch it unless you have to. Fox will show you. I’m staying here. I’ll let you know if there’s a change.’

‘Attempted murder?’ Dr Elekton said, making a mouthful of it.

‘I think so.’

‘For God’s sake!’ Dr Elekton repeated. He and Fox went out of the room. Alleyn drew up a chair and watched Mr Period.

His eyes were not quite closed and his breathing, though still markedly stertorous, seemed to be more regular. Alleyn heard Dr Elekton at the telephone.

The door-bell rang. The other chaps, he thought. Fox would cope.

Mr Period’s eyes opened and looked, squintingly at nothing.

‘You’re all right,’ Alleyn said, leaning towards him.