‘Will you come in?’ Rose said, and Mark added:

‘My grandmother is here, Mr Alleyn, and my father who informed the local police.’

‘And Nurse Kettle, I hope?’

‘And Nurse Kettle.’

‘Splendid. Shall we go in, Miss Cartarette?’

Alleyn and Fox took off their wet mackintoshes and hats and left them on a garden seat.

Rose led the way through the french window into the drawing-room where Alleyn found an out-of-drawing conversation piece established. Lady Lacklander, a vast black bulk, completely filled an armchair. Alleyn noticed that upon one of her remarkably small feet she wore a buckled velvet shoe and upon the other, a man’s bath slipper. Kitty Cartarette was extended on a sofa with one black velvet leg dangling, a cigarette in her holder, a glass in her hand and an ashtray loaded with butts at her elbow. It was obvious that she had wept but repairs had been effected in her make-up, and though her hands were still shaky she was tolerably composed. Between the two oddly assorted women; poised on the hearthrug with a whisky and soda, looking exquisitely uncomfortable and good-looking, was Sir George Lacklander. And at a remove in a small chair perfectly at her ease, sat Nurse Kettle, reclaimed from her isolation in the hall.

‘Hallo,’ said Lady Lacklander, picking her lorgnette off her bosom and flicking it open. ‘Good evening to you. You’re Roderick Alleyn, aren’t you? We haven’t met since you left the Foreign Service and that’s not yesterday nor the day before that. How many years is it? And how’s your mama?’

‘More than I care to remind you of and very well considering,’ Alleyn said, taking a hand like a pincushion in his.

‘Considering what? Her age? She’s five years my junior and there’s nothing but fat amiss with me. Kitty, this is Roderick Alleyn: Mrs Cartarette. My son George.’

‘Hah-yoo?’ George intervened coldly.

‘… and over there is Miss Kettle, our district nurse … Good evening,’ Lady Lacklander continued looking at Fox.

‘Good evening, my lady,’ said Fox placidly.

‘Inspector Fox,’ Alleyn said.

‘Now; what do you propose to do with us all? Take your time,’ she added kindly.

Alleyn thought to himself: ‘Not only must I take my time, but I must also take control. This old lady is up to something.’

He turned to Kitty Cartarette. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘to come so hard on the heels of what must have been an appalling shock. I’m afraid that in these cases, police inquiries are not the easiest ordeals to put up with. If I may, Mrs Cartarette, I’ll begin by asking you’ – he glanced briefly round the room –’indeed, all of you, if you’ve formed any opinion at all about this affair.’

There was a pause. He looked at Kitty Cartarette and then steadily for a moment at Rose who was standing at the far end of the room with Mark.