‘Would you stay where you are, all of you,’ Alleyn said. And to Grant, ‘You’re in charge, aren’t you? Be a good chap and see they stay put, will you?’

He was gone—back into the church.

‘By God, that’s pretty cool I must say,’ fumed the Major. ‘Ordering people about, damn it, like some blasted policeman. Who the devil does he think he is!’

‘I fancy,’ Grant said, ‘we’d better do as he suggests.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ Grant said with a half-smile at Sophy, ‘he seems to have what Kent recognized in Lear.’

‘What the hell’s that?’

‘Authority.’

‘How right you are,’ said Sophy.

‘I think he’s gorgeous,’ Lady Braceley agreed, ‘too compulsive and masterful.’

A long and uneasy silence followed this appraisal.

‘But what’s he doing?’ Kenneth suddenly asked. ‘Where’s he gone?’

‘I’m blasted well going to find out,’ the Major announced.

As he was about to carry out this threat, Alleyn was seen, returning quickly, through the basilica.

Before Major Sweet could launch, as he clearly intended to do, a frontal attack, Alleyn said:

‘Do forgive me, all of you. I’m afraid I was insufferably bossy but I thought it as well to go back and ask at the shop if Mr Mailer had come through.’

‘All right, all right,’ said the Major. ‘Had he?’

‘They say not.’

‘They might not have noticed him,’ Grant offered.

‘It’s possible, of course, but they know him by sight and say they were waiting for him to go out. They check the numbers of tickets for the lower regions in order to guard against shutting someone in.’

‘What’s he doing, skulking down there?’ the Major demanded. ‘I call it a damn poor show. Leaving us high and dry.’ He attacked Grant. ‘Look here, Grant, you’re on the strength here, aren’t you? Part of the organization, whatever it is.’

‘Absolutely not. I’ve nothing to do with it. Or him,’ Grant added under his breath.

‘My dear fellow, your name appears in their literature.’

‘In a purely honorary capacity.’

‘I suppose,’ Kenneth said, ‘it’s publicity for you, isn’t it?’

‘I’m not in need—’ Grant began and then turned white. ‘Isn’t all this beside the point?’ he asked Alleyn.

‘I’d have thought so. The people in charge have gone down to find him. There’s a complete system of fluorescent lighting kept for maintenance, excavation and emergencies. If he’s there they’ll find him.’

‘He may have been taken ill or something,’ Sophy hazarded.

‘That is so, that is so,’ cried the Van der Veghels like some rudimentary chorus. They often spoke in unison. ‘He is of a sickly appearance,’ the Baroness added. ‘And sweats a great deal,’ said her husband, clinching the proposition.