‘We’re left,’ Grant said, raising his voice, ‘as far as the touring party is concerned with a field of three. Lady Braceley in the atrium. I’m sorry, Lady Braceley, but there you were and I’m sure nobody supposes you left it. Dorne—’

‘No!’ Kenneth whispered. ‘No! Don’t you dare. Don’t dare!’

‘—Dorne on his way up—and alone.’

‘—and who else—who else? Go on. Who else?’

‘—and Major Sweet, who seems to be taking an unconscionable time getting to this meeting—’

There,’ Kenneth chattered. There! You see? What I always said. I said—’

‘And heaven knows what intruder from outside,’ Grant ended. ‘As far as I can see, you’ve no absolute proof that some complete outsider didn’t lie in wait down there for Mailer, kill him and make a getaway. That’s all. I’ve spoken out of order and I don’t regret it.’

Valdarno had begun, ‘Mr Grant, I must insist—’ when his telephone rang. He gestured angrily at Bergarmi, who lifted the receiver. A spate of Italian broke out at the other end. Bergarmi ejaculated and answered so rapidly that Alleyn could only just make out what he said. He picked up something like ‘—insufferable incompetence. At once. All of you. You hear me! All!’ He clapped the receiver down and turned to Valdarno.

‘They have lost him,’ he said. ‘Buffoons! Idiots! Lunatics! He has given them the slip.’

‘Vecchi?’

‘Vecchi! No, Signor Questore, no. Sweet. Major Sweet.’

CHAPTER 9
Death in the Morning

He made his getaway during the riots.

After Alleyn left him on the previous afternoon he had begun to keep watch from behind his window-blind on a man in the street below. The man had changed three times, the second to last being a short, swarthy fellow wearing a green hat. Sweet could not be sure if these watchers were police agents or spies employed by Giovanni. The latter would be infinitely more dangerous.

He had eaten in his room, giving it out that he was unwell and had managed to keep on the safe side of the whisky-bottle although, as evening came on, he had taken more than most men could stand.

Once when he was not looking into the street, he made a tiny fire of paper in an ashtray. Two larger papers he tore into fragments and put down the lavatory across the landing. But he had never carried much really incriminating stuff about with him and these were soon disposed of.

When it grew dark he did not turn on his light but still watched. The man in the green hat was at no pains to make himself inconspicuous. Often, he looked directly at the window so that, although Sweet knew this was not possible, he felt as if they stared into each other’s eyes. When the man’s relief came—he arrived on a motorbicycle—they pointed out the window to each other.