‘Ah? Are you? Yes. Hullo? Here’s a policeman.’ He held out the receiver. Alleyn said: ‘Superintendent Alleyn. At the Dolphin. Homicide. Decapitation. That’s what I said. I imagine that as I was here I’ll be expected to take it on. Yes, I’ll hold on while you do.’ There was a short interval and he said, ‘Bailey and Thompson. Yes. Ask for Inspector Fox to come down. My case is in my room. He’ll bring it. Get the doctor. Right? Good.’

He hung up. ‘I’ll take a look,’ he said and went on stage.

Four stagehands and the Property Master were on stage, keeping guard.

‘Nobody’s gone,’ Bob Masters said. ‘The company are in their dressing rooms and Peregrine’s gone back to the office. There’s a sort of conference.’

‘Good,’ said Alleyn. He walked over to the shrouded bundle. ‘What happened after the curtain fell?’

‘Scarcely anybody really realized it was – not a dummy. The head. The dummy’s a very good head. Blood and everything. I didn’t realize. I said “Picture” and they took up the final picture and the curtain went up and down. And then Gaston, who carried it on the end of his claidheamh-mor – the great claymore thing he carries throughout the play – that thing –’ He pointed at the bundle.

‘Yes?’

‘He noticed the blood on his gloves and he looked at them. And then he looked up and it dripped on his face and he screamed. The curtain being down.’

‘Yes.’

‘We all saw, of course. He let the – the head – on the claymore – fall. The house was still applauding. So I – really I didn’t know what I was doing. I went out through the centre break in the curtain and said there’d been an accident and I hoped they’d forgive us not taking the usual calls and go home. And I came off. By that time,’ said Mr Masters, ‘panic had broken out in the cast. I ordered them all to their rooms and I covered the head with that cloth – it’s used on the props table, I think. And Props sort of tucked it under. And that’s all.’

‘It’s very clear indeed. Thank you, Mr Masters. I think I’ll look at the head now, if you please. I can manage for myself.’

‘I’d be glad not to.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Alleyn.

He squatted down, keeping clear of the puddle. He took hold of the cloth and turned it back.

Sir Dougal stared up at him through the slits in his mask. The eyes were bloodshot and glazed. The steel guard over his mouth had fallen away and the mouth was stretched in a clown’s grin. Alleyn saw that he had been struck from behind: the wound was clean and the margin turned outward. He covered the face.

‘The weapon?’ he asked.

‘We think it must be this,’ Masters said. ‘At least, I do.’