Poole came next. He gave a quick look round the room and addressed himself to Alleyn. ‘I don’t understand all this,’ he said, ‘but if any member of my company is to be arrested, I’d rather stay here. I’d like to see Martyn Tarne home—she lives only ten minutes away—but if it’s all right with you, I’ll come back.’ He hesitated and then said quickly, ‘I’ve spoken to Jacques Doré.’

Alleyn waited for a moment. ‘Yes,’ he said at last, ‘I’d be glad if you’d come back.’

‘Will you see Helena now? She’s had about all she can take.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I’ll get her,’ Poole said and crossed the passage. They heard him call: ‘Ella?’ and in a moment he reopened the door for her.

She had put a velvet beret on her head and had pulled the fullness forward so that her eyes were shadowed. Her mouth drooped with fatigue but it had been carefully painted. Fox took her address and number.

‘Is the car here?’ she asked and Fox said: ‘Yes, Madam, in the yard. The constable will show you out.’

‘I’ll take you, Ella,’ Poole said. ‘Are you sure you’d rather be alone?’

She turned to Alleyn. ‘I thought,’ she said, ‘that if I’m allowed, I’d rather like to take Jacko. If he’s still about. Would you mind telling him? I’ll wait in the car.’

‘There’s no one,’ Alleyn asked, ‘that you’d like us to send for? Or ring up?’

‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I’d just rather like to have old Jacko.’

She gave him her hand. ‘I believe,’ she said, ‘that when I can think at all sensibly about all this, I’ll know you’ve been kind and considerate.’

Poole went out with her and Lamprey followed them.

A moment later, Martyn came in.

As she stood at the table and watched Fox write out her address she felt how little she believed in herself here, in this quietly fantastic setting. Fox and his two silent and soberly dressed associates were so incredibly what she had always pictured plain-clothes detectives to be, and Alleyn, on the contrary, so completely unlike. She was much occupied with this notion and almost forgot to give him her message.

‘Jacko,’ she said, ‘asked me to say his address is the same as mine. I have a room in the house where he lodges.’ She felt there might be some ambiguity in this statement and was about to amend it when Alleyn asked: ‘Has Mr Doré gone?’

‘I think he’s waiting for Miss Hamilton in her car.’

‘I see,’ Alleyn said. ‘And I believe Mr Poole is waiting for you. Goodbye, Miss Tarne, and good luck.’

Her face broke into a smile. ‘Thank you very much,’ said Martyn.

Poole’s voice called in the passage. ‘Where are you, Kate?’

She said goodnight and went out.