Mr. Rattisbon vibrated his tongue and sucked in his breath. “Lord Wutherwood,” he said, “made this final statement. He said: ‘You mark my words. If somebody doesn’t do something to stop her she’ll get me yet!’ ”

“Oh, hell!” said Alleyn.

“Well, now,” said Mr. Rattisbon after a long silence, “you may dismiss this incident, Chief Inspector, as absurd and irrelevant. I assure you that I deliberated at some length whether I should acquaint you with it.”

“I’m very glad you decided to tell me about it. What did he do with this concrete proof of her activities, whatever it may have been?”

“He locked it away in some hiding place of his own. It appeared that for some superstitious reason, which I don’t pretend to understand, he was unwilling to destroy it, though he refused to tell me what it was.”

“Had he ever discussed the affair with his wife, do you know? Taxed her with it?”

“Never. I asked the same question. Never.”

“No. No, I suppose he wouldn’t. Well, it’s a strange story.”

“Is it a significant story?”

“It fits into the pattern, I think.”

“Ah,” said Mr. Rattisbon who knew Alleyn. “The pattern. Your pet theory, Chief Inspector.”

“Yes, sir, my pet theory. I hope you may provide me with another lozenge in the pattern. Did he leave any large sums to his servants?”

“He made the customary bequests of a man in his position. One hundred pounds to each servant who had been in his employment for five years or more. In the cases of old family servants the legacies were in some cases considerable.”

“What about the two servants who were with them yesterday? William Giggle and Grace Tinkerton.”

“William Stanley Giggle,” said Mr. Rattisbon, “is the son of Lord Wutherwood’s late coachman and the grandson of his father’s coachman. He receives a more substantial inheritance in the form of an invested sum that should produce three hundred pounds per annum together with a small freehold property—a cottage and some three acres of land on the outskirts of the village of Deepacres.”

“Is this a recent bequest?”

“No, no. Lord Wutherwood has made several wills and many alterations but this bequest appears in the earliest of them. I understand that it was done at the request of Lord Wutherwood’s father.”

“And Tinkerton?”

“Is that Lady Wutherwood’s personal maid?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing.”

Alleyn grimaced and dropped his pencil on the desk before him.

“Isn’t it strange under the circumstances that Lady Wutherwood receives so much?”

“She would have received a great deal less,” said Mr. Rattisbon, “if the late Lord Wutherwood had lived until noon today.” And with some appearance of relishing the effect of this statement he added: “I was to wait upon the late Lord Wutherwood this morning with the purpose of obtaining his signature to a will. By that will Lady Wutherwood received the minimum which the law insists and not one penny-piece more.”