Giovanni was still in the basilica when Major Sweet returned with Lady Braceley, he said, and slid his eyes in her direction. Sweet’s behaviour was peculiar and far from polite. He planted her in the atrium and hastened to return below. Giovanni, filled, if he was to be believed, with nameless misgiving, had gone to the top well-head in the basilica and looked down—to his astonishment upon Major Sweet who (against the holy fathers’ regulations) had mounted the rails of the well-head directly underneath and seemed to strain over the top and peer into the Mithraic insula below. There was something extraordinarily furtive about the way he finally climbed down and darted out of sight.

‘This is nothing,’ said Valdarno, flicking it away with his fingers.

‘Ah,’ said Giovanni, ‘but wait.’ Wait, as he had, for the return of the party. First to arrive was Signor Dorne, who went immediately to his aunt in the atrium. And then, alone, the Major. White. Trembling. Agitated. A terrible expression in the eyes. He had passed Giovanni without seeing him and staggered into the porch. Giovanni had gone to him, had asked him if he was unwell. He had cursed Giovanni and asked him what the hell he meant and told him to get out. Giovanni had gone to his car and from there had seen the Major fortify himself from a pocket flask. His recovery was rapid. When the others appeared he was in full command of himself.

‘At the time, Signor Questore, I was at a loss to understand—but now, now I understand. Signor Questore, I,’ said Giovanni, slapping his chest and shaking his finger and making his point with the greatest virtuosity, ‘had looked upon the face of a murderer.’

And it was at this point that the telephone had rung. Bergarmi answered it, received the news of Sweet’s catastrophe and informed his Superior.

‘He is not expected,’ he said, ‘to recover consciousness.’

And while we’re on the subject of facial expression, Alleyn thought, if ever I’ve seen incredulous delight flash up in anybody’s face it’s now. And the face is Giovanni’s.

III

Five minutes later came the information that Hamilton Sweet had died without speaking.

Valdarno unbent so far as to convey this news to the travellers. And again relief, decently restrained, was in the air. Barnaby Grant probably voiced the majority’s reaction when he said, ‘For God’s sake don’t let’s go through the motions. He was a disastrous specimen and now it seems he was a murderer. It’s beastly but it’s over. Better for them—all three of them—by a long chalk and for everybody else that it should be.’

Alleyn saw Sophy look steadily at Grant for a moment and then frowningly at her own clenched hands. The Baron made sounds of agreement, but his wife, disconcertingly, broke into protest.