‘Certainly,’ he repeated. ‘Of course, our reading was, as usual, idiotic. Take the ending: “Hail, King of Scotland.” In other words: “Hail to the old acceptable standards. The old rewards and the old dishing out of cash and titles.” We cut all that, of course. And the bloody head of Macbeth stared the young Malcolm in the face. Curtain,’ said Barrabell.

‘Have you discussed the play with your political chums at the Red Fellowship meetings?’

‘Yes. Not in detail. More as a joke, really.’

‘A joke,’ Alleyn exclaimed. ‘Did you say a joke?’

‘A bit on the macabre side, certainly. There’s a meeting every Sunday morning. You ought to come. I’ll bring you in on my ticket.’

‘Did you talk about the murder?’

‘Oh yes. Whodunnit talk. You know.’

‘Who did do it?’

‘Don’t ask me. I don’t know, do I?’

Alleyn thought: He’s not so frightened, now. He’s being impudent.

‘Have you thought about the future, Mr Barrabell? What do you think of doing?’

‘I haven’t considered it. There’s talk of another Leftist Players Tour but of course I thought I was settled for a long season here.’

‘Of course. Would you read this statement and, if it’s correct, sign it? Pay particular attention to this, will you?’

The forefinger pointed to the typescript.

‘You were asked: where were you between Macbeth’s last speech and Old Siward’s epitaph for his son? It just says: “Dressing-room and OP centre waiting for call.” Could you be a little more specific?’ Alleyn asked.

‘I really don’t see quite how.’

‘When did you leave the dressing-room?’

‘Oh. We were called on the tannoy. They’ll give you the time. I pulled on my ghost’s head and the cloak and went out.’

‘Did you meet anybody in the passage?’

‘Meet anyone? Not precisely. I followed the old King and the Macduffs, mother and son, I remember. I don’t know if anyone followed me. Any of the other “corpses”.’

‘And you were alone in the dressing-room?’

‘Yes, my dear Chief Superintendent. Absolutely alone.’

‘Thank you.’ Alleyn made an addition and offered his own pen. ‘Will you read and sign it, please? There.’

Barrabell read it. Alleyn had written: ‘Corroborative evidence: none.’

He signed it.

‘Thank you,’ Alleyn said and left him.

In the passage he ran into Rangi. ‘Hullo,’ he said, ‘I’m getting statements signed. Would it suit you to do yours now?’

‘Sure.’

‘Where’s your room?’

‘Along here.’

He led the way to where the passage turned left and the rooms were larger.

‘I’ve got Ross and Lennox and Angus in with me,’ Rangi said. He came to the correct door and opened it. ‘Nobody here. It’s a bit of a muddle, I’m afraid.’

‘Doesn’t matter. You’ve packed up, I see.’

He cleared a chair for Alleyn and took one himself.