Rose made one of those involuntary movements that are so much more graphic than words, and Alleyn, whom for the moment they all completely disregarded, wondered how the Colonel had enjoyed being called Maurie.

George, with a rebellious glance at his mother, said: ‘Exactly what I mean. Wait.’

‘By all means, wait,’ Alleyn interjected, and stood up. They all jumped slightly. ‘I expect,’ he suggested to Lady Lacklander, ‘you would like, before taking any further steps, to consult with Mr Phinn. As a matter of fact, I think it highly probable that he will suggest it himself.’ Alleyn looked very straight at Lady Lacklander. ‘I suggest,’ he said, ‘that you consider just exactly what is at stake in this matter. When a capital crime is committed, you know, all sorts of long-buried secrets are apt to be discovered. It’s one of those things about homicide.’ She made no kind of response to this and, after a moment, he went on: ‘Perhaps when you have all come to a decision you will be kind enough to let me know. They’ll always take a message at the Boy and Donkey. And now, if I may, I’ll get on with my job.’

He bowed to Lady Lacklander and was about to move off when Mark said: ‘I’ll see you to your car, sir. Coming, Rose?’

Rose seemed to hesitate, but she went off with him, entirely, Alleyn sensed, against the wishes of the remaining three.

Mark and Rose conducted him round the east wing of the great house to the open platform in front of it. Here Fox waited in the police car. A sports model with a doctor’s sticker and a more domestic car, which Alleyn took to be the Cartarettes’, waited side by side. The young footman, William, emerged with a suitcase. Alleyn watched him deliver this to Fox and return to the house.

‘There goes our dirty washing,’ Mark said, and then looked uncomfortable.

Alleyn said: ‘But you carried a tennis racket, didn’t you, and Sir George, I suppose, a golf bag? May we have them too?’

Mark said: ‘Yes, I see. Yes. All right, I’ll get them.’

He ran up the steps and disappeared. Alleyn turned to Rose. She stared at the doorway through which Mark had gone and it was as if some kind of threat had overtaken her.

‘I’m so frightened,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why, but I’m so frightened.’

‘Of what?’ Alleyn asked gently.

‘I don’t know. One of those things, I suppose. I’ve never felt it before. It’s as if my father was the only person that I ever really knew. And now he’s gone; someone’s murdered him and I feel as if I didn’t properly understand anyone at all.’

Mark came back with a bag of clubs and a tennis racket in a press.

‘This is it,’ he said.