‘There’s not a damn’ one among them except the Nurse who isn’t holding something back; I’ll swear there isn’t. Let’s have a word with young Lacklander, shall we? Fetch him in, Foxkin, and while you’re there see how Mr Phinn’s getting on with his statement to the sergeant. I wanted an ear left in that room, the sergeant’s was the only one available and the statement seemed the best excuse for planting him there. We’ll have to go for dabs on those spectacles we picked up and I swear they’ll be Mr Phinn’s. If he’s got off his chest as much as he’s decided to tell us, let him go home. Ask him to remain on tap, though, until further notice. Away you go.’

While Fox was away Alleyn looked more closely at Colonel Cartarette’s study. He thought he found in it a number of interesting divergences from the accepted convention. True there were leather saddle-back chairs, a pipe-rack and a regimental photograph, but instead of sporting prints the Colonel had chosen half a dozen Chinese drawings and the books that lined two of his walls, although they included army lists and military biographies, were for the greater part well-worn copies of Elizabethan and Jacobean dramatists and poets with one or two very rare items on angling. With these Alleyn was interested to find a sizeable book with the title The Scaly Breed by Maurice Cartarette. It was a work on the habits and characteristics of freshwater trout. On his desk was a photograph of Rose, looking shy and misty, and one of Kitty looking like an imitation of something it would be difficult to define.

Alleyn’s gaze travelled over the surface of the desk and down the front. He tried the drawers. The top pair were unlocked and contained only writing-paper and envelopes and a few notes written in a distinguished hand, evidently by the Colonel himself. The centre pairs on each side were locked. The bottom left-hand drawer pulled out. It was empty. His attention sharpened. He had stooped down to look more closely at it when he heard Fox’s voice in the hall. He pushed the drawer to and stood away from the desk.

Mark Lacklander came in with Fox.

Alleyn said: ‘I shan’t keep you long: indeed, I have only asked you to come in to clear up one small point and to help us with another: not so small. The first question is this: When you went home at a quarter past eight last evening, did you hear a dog howling in Bottom Meadow?’

‘No,’ Mark said. ‘No, I’m sure I didn’t.’

‘Did Skip really stick close to the Colonel?’

‘Not when he was fishing,’ Mark said at once. ‘The Colonel had trained him to keep a respectful distance away.’

‘But you didn’t see Skip?’