‘A soldier like you shouldn’t need to ask that question,’ said Paul. ‘You must have had people in the army who joined for the sheer pleasure of killing.’

‘We did. Whenever battle was joined, they became almost frenzied. But tell me what else you and your brother have been doing.’

‘We’re going over old ground in case we’ve missed anything. Peter had a crack at Hugh Denley and I paid a second visit to Sir Marcus Brough. Behind his bluff exterior is a very shrewd politician.’

‘We’ve thought from the start that this was a political assassination,’ said Golightly. ‘The person who initiated it might be higher up in government than Sir Marcus. The name that keeps coming back to me is that of Viscount Sidmouth. I remember Sir Roger saying that he could be merciless.’

‘He’s still our prime suspect.’

‘Proving that the Home Secretary was involved is well-nigh impossible.’

‘It won’t stop us trying,’ said Paul. ‘When you were in public with Sir Roger, did you ever get the feeling that you were being watched?’

‘I didn’t but he certainly did.’

‘Wasn’t he worried by that?’

‘On the contrary, he gloried in it. Sir Roger loved the idea of being viewed as a threat. But what of the Runners?’ asked Golightly. ‘While you’ve been gathering evidence, they’ve been doing the same thing. How far have they got?’

‘They claim to have found someone who witnessed the murder.’

‘So did you.’

‘This man, apparently, saw who the assassin was and had the wit to follow him. When the reward notice appeared, he went to the Runners.’

‘How did they react?’

‘Knowing Yeomans and Hale as well as I do, I expect they tried to steal his evidence and use it for their own ends.’

‘What was the name of this witness?’

‘Giles Clearwater.’

Harry Scattergood refused to let him off the hook. Even though he’d interrogated Kinnaird five times in a row, he insisted on doing it again.

‘But you said that I was word perfect,’ moaned Kinnaird.

‘Let’s try it once more.’

‘Why?’

‘Six is my favourite number.’

‘I’m tired, Harry.’

‘One last time,’ decreed Scattergood. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Alan Kinnaird?’

‘No, you buffoon!’ shouted the other. ‘That’s your real name. At a stroke, you’ve given the game away.’

‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

‘Let’s start again. What’s your name?’

‘Charles Mifflin.’

‘And what’s your occupation?’

‘I’m a gentleman of independent means.’

‘What were you doing at the Covent Garden Theatre on the night in question?’

‘I went to watch a performance of Macbeth.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘I wanted to see Hannah Granville in the role of Lady Macbeth.’

‘Was that the only reason?’

‘No, I was following Sir Roger Mellanby.’

‘Why?’