Mr Phinn blinked at him. ‘I cannot,’ he said, with a show of spirit, ‘of course be compelled.’

‘Of course not. But I’m afraid we shall have to trouble all of you to give us signed statements, if you are willing to do so – if you do yours first it will leave you free to go home. I hope,’ Alleyn concluded, ‘that you will not find it too difficult without your glasses. And now, Miss Cartarette, may we indeed use the study?’

Rose led the way across the hall into the room where eight hours ago she had talked to her father about her love for Mark. Alleyn and Fox followed her. She waited for a moment and stared, as it seemed to Alleyn, with a kind of wonder at the familiar chairs and desk. Perhaps she saw a look of compassion in his face. She said: ‘He seems to be here, you know. The room can’t go on without him, one would think. This was his place more than anywhere else.’ She faltered for a moment, and then said: ‘Mr Alleyn, he was such a darling, my father. He was as much like my child as my father, he depended on me so completely. I don’t know why I’m saying this to you.’

‘It’s sometimes a good idea to say things like that to strangers. They make uncomplicated confidants.’

‘Yes,’ she said and her voice was surprised, ‘that’s quite true. I’m glad I told you.’

Alleyn saw that she suffered from the kind of nervous ricochet that often follows a severe shock. Under its impetus the guard that people normally set over their lightest remarks is lowered and they speak spontaneously of the most surprising matters: as now when Rose suddenly added: ‘Mark says he couldn’t have felt anything. I’m sure he’s not just saying that to comfort me because being a doctor he wouldn’t. So I suppose in a way it’s what people call a release. From everything.’

Alleyn asked quietly: ‘Was he worried about anything in particular?’

‘Yes,’ Rose said sombrely, ‘he was indeed. But I can’t tell you about that. It’s private; and even if it wasn’t it couldn’t possibly be of any use.’

‘You never know,’ he said lightly.

‘You do in this case.’

‘When did you see him last?’

‘This evening. I mean last evening, don’t I? He went out soon after seven. I think it was about ten past seven.’

‘Where did he go?’

She hesitated, and then said: ‘I believe to call on Mr Phinn. He took his rod and told me he would go on down to the Chyne for the evening rise. He said he wouldn’t come in for dinner and I asked for something to be left out for him.’

‘Do you know why he called on Mr Phinn?’

Rose waited for a long time and then said: ‘I think it had something to do with – with the publishing business.’

‘The publishing business?’