“No,” Rob said. “ I presume he’s been living in the city somewhere. I’ve seen him at a couple of bird club meetings.”

“Did you know him well?”

“Not really,” Rob said. “Whenever I went to see a bird, he was there. We’d talk, maybe go for a beer; then I might not see him again for months. That’s how it is with a lot of serious birders.”

“I see,” she said, but she did not understand the obsession which was the only thing these men had in common. Besides, she would never allow such a chaotic arrangement to rule her social life.

“What work did he do?” she asked. “His parents were rather vague. He must have had some sort of regular employment to afford a car, a holiday like this.”

Rob shrugged. “ Perhaps,” he said, “he had other ways of making money.”

“What do you mean?”

“There were always rumours.”

“What about?” she asked sharply. “Drugs? Was he a dealer?”

“That was what people said.”

“But that didn’t prevent you from allowing him onto the trip?”

“No,” Rob said. “Of course not. They were only rumours. Besides, it’s not something I feel strongly about.”

The inspector looked at him sharply, wondering if he were trying to outrage her, but he was concentrating on rolling a very thin cigarette, and she could not tell.

“Was anyone absent from the deck in the time between Franks’ going to lie down and your realising he was missing?” she asked.

“You must be joking!” Rob said. “I mean, I was looking at a bird which has certainly never been seen before in the western Palearctic and probably never in the world. I didn’t notice anything but that beautiful dark rump and those bloody big feet. I do have some sense of priority.”

His ridicule confused her. She did not have any idea what he was talking about. She turned to George.

“Mr. Palmer-Jones?” she asked with reverence and great hope.

“No,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice anyone missing. As soon as we spotted what was obviously a very rare bird, there was a great deal of confusion. Everyone was concentrating on the sea.”

She stared sadly at her small polished fingernails, and he saw that he had let her down. She turned to Rob.

“Who knew that Mr. Franks would be on the trip?” she asked. “Did anyone ask to see a passenger list before boarding?”

“No,” Rob said. “Only George.” He grinned wickedly.

“Is that relevant?” George asked. “ I don’t see, you know, how the murder can have been premeditated. None of us knew that Greg would feel seasick. In normal circumstances he would have been with us throughout the journey. It would have been impossible to kill him then.”