Thunder and fog. Blackout, and then the door will be shut and Lennox knocking on it as the scene ends.

‘All right,’ said Peregrine. ‘I’ve no notes specifically for you. It will need adjustments, no doubt, when we get the background noise settled. Thank you all very much.’

They all left the rehearsal, except Rangi.

‘Is something amiss? What’s the matter?’

He held out his marketing bag. ‘Will you look in it, sir?’ Peregrine took the bag and opened it.

Out of it a malignant head stared up at him. Mouth open, eyes open, teeth bared. Pinkish paws stretched upwards.

‘Oh God!’ said Peregrine. ‘Here we go again. Where was this bag?’

‘With the other two on the props table. Since yesterday.’

‘Anyone look in it?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. Only to put the rat in. There was no means of telling which bag belonged to whom. It might have been Blondie’s. She’d have fainted or gone into high-powered hysterics,’ said Rangi.

‘She wouldn’t have looked in. Nor would Wendy. Their bags are filled with newspaper and fastened with thongs, tightly knotted. Yours isn’t because you’re meant to open it and produce the pilot’s thumb.’

‘So I was meant to find it,’ said Rangi.

‘It wouldn’t have worked with the other two.’

‘There’s an obvious man to have played all these silly tricks.’

‘Props?’ said Peregrine.

‘Ask yourself.’

‘I do, and I don’t believe it. Did you hear his outcries and threats to appeal to his Union over the Banquo’s head business? Was that all my eye? We’d have to say we’ve got a bloody star actor on the books. No. We’ve had him as Props for years. I simply cannot wear him for the job.’

‘Can’t you narrow down the field? Where everyone was at the different times? Who could have gone up to Duncan’s room with the head, for instance?’

There was a long silence.

‘Duncan’s room?’ said Peregrine at last. ‘With the head?’

‘That’s right. What’s wrong with you?’

‘How do you know about the head in that room?’

‘Props told me. I ran into him with it. Coming down the ladder from Duncan’s chamber. Now I think of it,’ said Rangi, ‘his manner was odd. I said: “What are you doing with that thing?” and he said he was putting it where it ought to be. I’m sorry, Perry. I really think he’s your man, you know. He must have put it under the dish-cover, mustn’t he?’

‘He was taking it back to the other heads in the walking men’s room. I told him to.’

‘Did you see him do it?’

‘No.’

‘Ask him if he did it.’

‘Of course I will. But I’m sure he didn’t put it in the dish. I admit he doesn’t look too good but I’m sure of it.’