‘Do you remember,’ he asked, ‘how many cars stopped by the drain or who any of the people were?’

‘Not really. They were all new to me: lots of Nigels and Michaels and Sarahs and Davids and Gileses.’

‘You could see them fairly clearly?’

‘Fairly. There was a hurricane lantern shining on two planks across the ditch and they all had torches.’

‘Any of them walk across the planks?’

‘I think most of them. But the clue was under one of the drain-pipes on the road side of the ditch. We’d see them find it and giggle over it and put it back and then go zooming off.’

‘Anyone touch the planks? Look under the ends for the clue?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Nicola hesitated and then said: ‘I remember Leonard and Moppett. They were the last and they hadn’t got a torch. He crossed the planks and stooped over as if he was looking in the ditch. I got the impression that they stared at us. There was something, I don’t know what, kind of furtive about him. I can see him now,’ Nicola said, surprised at the vivid memory. ‘I think he had his hand inside his overcoat. The lamplight was on him. He turned his back to us. He stooped and straightened up. Then he recrossed the bridge and found the clue. They looked at it by the light of the lantern and he put it back and they drove away.’

‘Was he wearing gloves?’

‘Yes, he was. Light-coloured ones. Tight-fitting wash-leather I should think: a bit too svelte like everything else about Leonard.’

‘Anything more?’

‘No. At least – well, they didn’t sort of talk and laugh like the others. I don’t suppose any of this matters.’

‘Don’t you, indeed? And then, you good, observant child?’

‘Well, Andrew said: “Funny how ghastly they look even at this distance!” And I said: “Like – !” No, it doesn’t matter.’

‘Like what?’

‘“Like grand-opera assassins” was what I said but it was a silly remark. Actually, they looked more like sneak thieves but I can’t tell you why. It’s nothing.’

‘And then?’

‘Well, they were the last couple. You see, Andrew kept count, vaguely, because he thought it would be all right to continue our conversation as long as there were still hunters to come. But before them, Lady Bantling and Mr Period came past. She was driving him home. She stopped the car by the planks and I fancy she called out to a hunting couple that were just leaving. Mr Period got out and said good night with his hat off, looking rather touching, poor sweet, and crossed the planks and went in by his side gate. And she turned the car.’ Nicola stopped.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, you see, I – I don’t want –’