“No,” said Alleyn, “we don’t.”

“So it seems you must suspect a person who wanted money very badly and was left some in the first Will. And, of course, didn’t much care for Papa. And Cedric, who’s the only one who fits, won’t do.”

He turned, after making this profound understatement, to fix upon Alleyn a most troubled and searching gaze.

“I think that’s a pretty accurate summing up,” Alleyn said.

“Who could it be?” Thomas mused distractedly and added with a sidelong glance: “But, then, you’ve picked up all sorts of information which you haven’t mentioned.”

“Which I haven’t time to mention,” Alleyn rejoined. “There are Ancreton woods above that hill. We’ll stop at the pub.”

P.C. Bream was standing outside the pub and stepped forward to open the door of the car. He was scarlet in the face.

“Well, Bream,” Alleyn said, “carried out your job?”

“In a manner of speaking, sir,” said Bream, “no. Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas.”

Alleyn stopped short in the act of getting out. “What? Isn’t she there?”

“Circumstances,” Bream said indistinctly, “over which I ’ad no control, intervened, sir.” He waved an arm at a bicycle leaning against the pub. The front tyre hung in a deflated festoon about the axle. “Rubber being not of the best—”

“Where is she?”

“On my arrival, having run one mile and a quarter—”

“Where is she?”

“Hup,” said Bream miserably, “at the ’ouse.”

“Get in here and tell us on the way.”

Bream wedged himself into one of the tip-up seats and the driver turned the car. “Quick as you can,” Alleyn said. “Now, Bream.”

“Having received instructions, sir, by telephone, from the Super at Camber Cross, me having my dinner at the pub, I proceeded upon my bicycle in the direction of Ancreton ’Alt at eleven-fifty a.m.”

“All right, all right,” said Fox. “And your tyre blew out.”

“At eleven-fifty-one, sir, she blew on me. I inspected the damage, and formed the opinion it was impossible to proceed on my bicycle. Accordingly I ran.”

“You didn’t run fast enough, seemingly. Don’t you know you’re supposed to keep yourself fit in the force?” said Fox severely.

“I ran, sir,” Bream rejoined with dignity, “at the rate of one mile in ten minutes and arrived at the ’Alt at twelve-four, the train ’aving departed at twelve-one, and the ladies in the pony-carriage being still in view on the road to the Manor.”

“The ladies?” said Alleyn.

“There was two of them. I attempted to attract their attention by raising my voice, but without success. I then returned to the pub, picking up that there cantankerous bice ong rowt.”

Fox muttered to himself.

“I reported by phone to the Super. He give me a blast, and said he would ring the Manor and request the lady in question to return. She ’as not done so.”

“No,” Alleyn said. “I imagine she’d see him damned first.”

The car turned in at the great entrance and climbed through the woods. Half-way up the drive they met what appeared to be the entire school, marching and singing under the leadership of Miss Caroline Able’s assistant. They stood aside to let the car pass. Alleyn could not see Panty among them.

“Not their usual time for a walk,” said Thomas.

The car drew up at last into the shadow of the enormous house.

“If nothing else has gone cock-eyed,” Alleyn said, “she’ll be in the school.”

Thomas cried out in alarm: “Are you talking about Caroline Able?”

“No. See here, Ancred. We’re going into the school. There’s a separate entrance back there, and we’ll use it. Will you go into this part of the house and please say nothing about our arrival?”

“Well, all right,” said Thomas, “though I must say I don’t quite see—”

“It’s all very confusing. Away you go.”

They watched Thomas walk slowly up the steps, push open the great door, and pause for a second in the shadowy lobby. Then he turned and the door closed between them.

“Now, Fox,” Alleyn said, “you and I will go into the school. I think the best thing we can do is to ask her to come back with us to London and make a statement. Awkward if she refuses, but if she does we’ll have to take the next step. Drive back to the end of the building there.”

The car was turned, and stopped again at a smaller door in the west wing. “Thompson, you and Bream wait back there in the car. If we want you, we’ll get you. Come on, Fox.”

They got out. The car moved away. They had turned to the doorway when Alleyn heard his name called. Thomas was coming down the steps from the main entrance. He ran towards them, his coat flapping, and waved his arm.

“Alleyn! Alleyn! Stop!”

“Now what?” Alleyn said.

Thomas was breathless when he reached them. He laid his hands on the lapels of Alleyn’s coat. His face was colourless and his lips shook. “You’ve got to come,” he said. “It’s frightful. Something frightful’s happened. Sonia’s in there, horribly ill. Withers says she’s been poisoned. He says she’s going to die.”

i

They had carried her into a small bedroom in the school.

When Alleyn and Fox, accompanied as far as the door by Thomas, walked unheralded into the room, they found Dr. Withers in the act of turning Pauline and Desdemona out of it. Pauline appeared to be in an advanced state of hysteria.

“Out, both of you. At once, please. Mrs. Ancred and I can do all that is necessary. And Miss Able.”

“A curse. That’s what I feel. There’s a curse upon this house. That’s what it is, Dessy.”

“Out, I say. Miss Ancred, take this note. I’ve written it clearly. Ring up any surgery and tell them to send the things up immediately the car arrives. Can your brother drive my car? Very well.”

“There’s a man and a car outside,” Alleyn said. “Fox, take the note, will you?”

Pauline and Desdemona, who had backed before the doctor to the door, turned at the sound of Alleyn’s voice, uttered incoherent cries, and darted past him into the passage. Fox, having secured the note, followed them.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dr. Withers demanded. “Get out!” He glared at Alleyn and turned back to the bed. Millamant Ancred and Caroline Able were stooped above it, working, it seemed with difficulty, over something that struggled and made harsh inhuman noises. A heavy stench hung in the air.

“Get the clothes away, but put that other thing on her. Keep her covered as far as possible. That’s right. Take my coat, Mrs. Ancred, please; I can’t do with it. Now, we’ll try the emetic again. Careful! Don’t let me break the glass.”

Miss Able moved away with an armful of clothes. Millamant stood back a little, holding the doctor’s jacket, her hands working nervously.

There, on a child’s bed with a gay counterpane, Sonia Orrincourt strained and agonised, the grace of her body distorted by revolt and the beauty of her face obliterated in pain. As Alleyn looked at her, she arched herself and seemed to stare at him. Her eyes were bloodshot; one lid drooped and fluttered and winked. One arm, like that of a mechanical toy, repeatedly jerked up its hand to her forehead in a reiterated salaam.

He waited, at the end of the room, and watched. Dr. Withers seemed to have forgotten him. The two women after a startled glance turned again to their task. The harsh cries, the straining and agonizing, rose in an intolerable crescendo.

“I’m going to give a second injection. Keep the arm still, if you can. Very well, then, get that thing out of the way. Now.”

The door opened a fraction. Alleyn moved to it, saw Fox and slipped through.

“Our chap ought to be back any minute with the doctor’s gear,” Fox muttered.

“Have you rung for Dr. Curtis and Co.?”

“They’re on the way.”

“Thompson and Bream still on the premises?”