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your coat and hat, spoke to Master Michael, and returned to the landing?’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      ‘Did you hear his lordship call a second time?’

      ‘I can’t say I remember, sir. I don’t think so, sir.’

      ‘Were the lift doors still shut when you returned?’

      ‘I can’t say, sir. I hurried downstairs, sir, without looking at the lift.’

      ‘Yes, I see. What did you do then?’

      ‘I went straight to the car, sir.’

      ‘Meet anybody?’

      ‘Beg pardon, sir? Yes, I did pass the commissionaire, sir.’

      ‘Speak to him?’

      Giggle turned a deep crimson. ‘I just mentioned his lordship seemed to be in a bit of a hurry, sir.’

      ‘How long were you in the car?’

      ‘I couldn’t rightly say, sir. Not long before Miss Tinkerton came down. She’s her ladyship’s maid, sir. She came downstairs and sat with me.’

      ‘And then?’

      Giggle looked towards Roberta. ‘The young lady came and fetched us, sir.’

      ‘You did, Miss Grey?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘We thought they might be wanted,’ said Henry.

      ‘Oh, yes. Thank you, Giggle, that’ll do for the moment. I may want to see you later.’

      ‘Thank you, sir.’

      Giggle went away. Alleyn looked round that circle of politely attentive faces. ‘That carries us to the time when Lord Wutherwood first called out, and, rather patchily, a little way beyond it. There’s one small point we may as well clear up. I should like to know who wiped away the marks on the lift wall?’

      ‘What marks?’ asked Lord Charles while Roberta’s heart sank into a chasm. ‘I didn’t notice any marks.’

      ‘I did,’ said Roberta, in a much louder voice than she intended, ‘I wiped them off.’

      ‘Why did you do this, Miss Grey?’

      ‘I don’t quite know.’ Why had she wiped away the marks? ‘I think it was because they looked so beastly. And I thought if other people used the lift – The lift was still working.’

      ‘I see.’ He was smiling at her. ‘Just tidying up?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You shouldn’t, you know,’ said Alleyn, dismissing it. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I don’t think any purpose can be served by keeping you all together. I’m so sorry, Lady Charles, but I’m afraid I ought to see your small son.’ Alleyn looked deprecatingly at Nanny, ‘I know it’s all against nursery law,’ he said.

      ‘The boy’s worn out already,’ said Nanny, ‘sir.’

      ‘Oh, Nanny, he isn’t,’ said Patch.

      ‘That will do, Patricia.’

      ‘Well, anyway –’

      ‘It’ll be a very nasty shock for him, m’lady,’ said Nanny. ‘Waking him up in the middle of the night and telling him his uncle’s been done away with.’

      ‘I’ll explain, Nanny,’ said Lady Charles.

      ‘You needn’t bother, Mummy,’ said Patch. ‘When I came out Mike was looking in the playbox for that magnifying glass you gave him. We guessed it was a murder and he thought he’d like to do some private detection.’

      ‘Honestly!’ said Frid, and burst out laughing.

      ‘Look here, Nanny,’ said Alleyn. ‘Suppose you take me along to the nursery and stand by. If you think I’m exciting him you can order me out.’

      Nanny pulled down the corners of her mouth, ‘It’s for his mother to say, sir,’ she said.

      ‘I think I’ll just explain to Mike,’ said Lady Charles, ‘and bring him here to see you, Mr Alleyn.’

      Alleyn stood up. The movement had the effect of calling them all to attention. Lady Charles rose and the men with her. She faced Alleyn. There was a brief silence.

      Alleyn said: ‘I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll go with Nanny. Of course if they think it would be advisable, his parents may be present while I speak to him.’ Some shade of inflection in his voice seemed to catch the attention of the parents. Lady Charles said: ‘Yes, I think I’d rather –’ hesitated and glanced at her husband.

      ‘I’m sure Mr Alleyn will be very considerate with Mike,’ he said, and behind the somewhat stylized courtesy which he was beginning to recognize as a characteristic of Lord Charles, Alleyn thought he heard a note of warning. Perhaps Lady Charles heard it too for she said quickly: ‘Yes, of course. I expect Mike will be too thrilled. Nanny, will you wake him and explain?’

      Alleyn went to the door and opened it. ‘I don’t expect we shall be very long,’ he said.

      Henry laughed unpleasantly. Frid said: ‘When you’ve met Mike, Mr Alleyn, you’ll realize that no one on earth could prime him with any story.’

      ‘Don’t be an ass, Frid,’ said Colin.

      ‘What you may not realize,’ said Henry suddenly, ‘is that Mike is a most accomplished little liar. He’ll think he’s telling the truth but if an agreeably dramatic invention occurs to him he’ll use it.’

      ‘How old is Michael?’ Alleyn asked Lady Charles.

      ‘Eleven.’

      ‘Eleven? A splendid age. Do you know that in the police courts we regard small boys between the ages of ten and fifteen as ideal witnesses. They almost top the list.’

      ‘Really?’ said Henry. ‘And what type of witness do the experts put at the bottom of the list?’

      ‘Oh,’ said Alleyn with his politely deprecating air, ‘young people, you know. Young people of both sexes between the ages of sixteen and twenty-six.’

      ‘Why?’ asked the twins and Henry and Frid simultaneously.

      ‘The textbooks say that they are generally rather unobservant,’ Alleyn murmured. ‘Too much absorbed in themselves and their own reactions. May we go, Nanny?’

      Without a word Nanny led the way into the hall. Alleyn followed her and shut the door but not before he heard Frid say: ‘And that, my dears, takes us off with a screech of laughter and a couple of loud thumps.’

       CHAPTER 10

       Statement from a Small Boy

      Mike was fast asleep and therefore looked his best. The treachery of sleep is seen in the circumstances of its adding years to the middle-aged and taking them away from children. Mike’s cheeks were filmy with roses, his lips were parted freshly and his lashes made endearing smudges under his delicate eyelids. His mouse-coloured hair was tousled and still moist from his bath. Near to his face one hand, touchingly defenceless, lay relaxed across the handle of a Woolworth magnifying glass. He looked about seven years old and alarmingly innocent. Nanny, scowling hideously, smoothed the bedclothes and laid a gnarled finger against Mike’s cheek. Mike made a babyish sound and curled down closer in his bed.

      ‘Damn’ shame to wake him,’

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