“All right. We only want the facts, you know. If you’ve given us the facts you’ve nothing to worry about.”

“If I might ask, sir, has Master Michael spoken for me?”

“Yes, he has. He says he saw you go down.”

Giggle wiped his hand across his mouth. “Thank God! I beg your pardon, sir, but young gentlemen of his age don’t always notice much, and I’ve been that worried.”

“We’ve asked you to come here this morning,” Alleyn said, “to see if you can give us any further information.”

“I will if I can, sir, but I don’t know a thing. I’ve got nothing to do with it. I never wished his lordship dead. His lordship always treated me fair enough.”

“Even to the extent of leaving you a nice little property, I understand.”

Giggle burst into a clumsy tirade of self-defence. It was not his doing, he cried, that his lordship had favoured him. “It was along of what my dad did for his lordship’s father. I never asked for anything nor never expected it. You can’t pin anything on me. It’s always the same. If it’s gentry and workingmen in trouble the police go for the workingmen every time. My Gawd, can’t you understand…” Alleyn let him talk himself to a standstill. At last he was silent and stood there sweating freely and showing the whites of his eyes like a startled horse.

“Now you’ve got that off your chest,” said Alleyn, “perhaps you’ll listen to one or two questions. Sit down.”

“I’d as soon stand.”

“All right. You tell us you went downstairs to the car, and that the first thing you knew about the tragedy was when Miss Grey came for you. Very well. Now, as you went downstairs, did the lift overtake you and go to the bottom?”

“No, sir.”

“It didn’t come down at all while you were on the stairs?”

Giggle seemed to shy all over. “What’s this about the lift? It was up top. I never seen it after I went down.”

“That’s all I wanted you to tell me,” said Alleyn.

“Oh cripes!” said Giggle under his breath.

“Another point. How did his lordship get on with his servants?”

“Good enough,” said Giggle cautiously.

“Really?”

“I’m not going to get myself trapped—”

“Don’t talk silly,” said Inspector Fox austerely. “What’s the matter with you? The Chief Inspector asked you a plain question. Why can’t you answer it? You’re making yourself look awkward, that’s what you’re doing.”

“Come along, now, Giggle,” said Alleyn. “Pipe up, there’s a good fellow.”

“Well, sir, I’m sorry, but I’m all anyhow. His lordship got on good enough with his staff in a manner of speaking. There was some thought he was a bit on the near side and there was some didn’t like his sarcastic ways but I never minded. He treated me fair.”

“Did some of the staff prefer her ladyship to his lordship?”

“They might of.”

“The maid for instance?”

“She might of.”

“Are you friendly with her maid?”

“We get on all right,” said Giggle, eyeing Alleyn suspiciously.

“Any attachment between you?”

“What the hell’s that got to do with this business?” roared Giggle. “Who says there’s anything?”

“Away you go again,” observed Alleyn wearily. “Will you answer the question or won’t you?”

“There’s nothing between us, then. We might have been a bit friendly, like. What’s there in that? I don’t say we’re not friendly.”

“Would you say that Tinkerton took Lady Wutherwood’s part against her husband? Sympathized with her?”

“She’s very fond of her ladyship. She’s been with her a long time.”

“Quite so. Did she sympathize with Lady Wutherwood when it came to any differences between them?”

“I suppose so.”

“Then there were differences between Lord and Lady Wutherwood?”

“Yes, sir,” said Giggle, obviously relieved at this turn of the conversation.

“What did they quarrel about, do you know?”

“Her ladyship’s got funny ideas. She takes up with funny people.”

“Do you think she’s normal mentally?”

Giggle shuffled his feet and looked at his cap. His lips were trembling.

“Come on,” said Alleyn.

“It’s pretty well known she’s a bit funny. Grace Tinkerton doesn’t like it said, but it’s a fact. She was shut up for a time and she’s never what you’d call the same as other people. I think most of us on the staff have that opinion.”

“Except Miss Tinkerton?”

“She knows,” said Giggle, “but she won’t let on. Loyal-like.”

“All right,” said Alleyn. “That’s everything, I think.”

Giggle wiped his face with a shaking hand. He seemed to hover on the edge of speech.

“What is it?” Alleyn asked.

“Gawd, sir, I’m that upset! It’s got me down. Thinking about it.” He stopped again and then with a curious air of taking control of himself said rapidly, “I beg pardon, sir, for forgetting myself. I got that rattled thinking about it when Mr. Fox came at me again this morning—”

“That’s all right,” said Alleyn, “good-bye.”

Giggle gave him a terrified glance and went out. v

A mid-day train took Alleyn, Fox and Nigel Bathgate into Kent. Nigel rang up Alleyn two minutes before he left for Victoria and climbed into the restaurant carriage two seconds after it had started moving. “Ever faithful, ever sure,” he said and ordered drinks for the three of them.

“You won’t get much out of this,” said Alleyn.

“You never know, do you? We sent a cameraman down there this morning. I hope to fix up some trimmings for the pictures.”

“Have you seen your friends this morning?”

“Yes.” Nigel looked doubtfully at Alleyn, seemed about to speak, but evidently changed his mind.

“Let’s have lunch,” said Alleyn.

During the journey he was amiable but uncommunicative. After lunch Fox and Nigel went to sleep and did not wake until they reached Canterbury. Here they found the sun shining between ponderous clouds moving slowly to the south. They changed to a branch line, arriving at Deepacres Halt at three o’clock.

“Out we get,” said Alleyn. “The local superintendent is supposed to have sent a car. It’s three miles, I understand, to the chateau Wutherwood. There’s our man.”

The superintendent himself waited for them on the platform and led the way out to a village road and the police car. He was evidently much stimulated by this visit from the Yard and showed great readiness to discuss Deepacres Park and the Lamprey family. As they drove away from the village he pointed to a pleasant cottage standing back from a side lane.

“That’ll be Bill Giggle’s property now,” he said.

“Nice for Bill Giggle,” said Alleyn.

“Very nice. Funny, the way he’s come by it. Ancient history, it is. Bill Giggle’s old man was coachman to his late lordship’s father and saved his life. Runaway horse affair, it was. His old lordship promised Bill Giggle’s dad the cottage for his work which was very courageous and smart but, in the end, it was horses did for his old lordship, just the same, for he was killed in the hunting field. Only lived a few minutes but in the hearing of them that were there he said he was sorry he’d never made that addition to his will, and asked his son — that’s his late lordship — to make it good. Well, his new lordship’s, as he was then, didn’t actually hand over the cottage, being a bit on the near side, but he sent for his lawyers and made his will and let it be known young Bill Giggle would get the place when he himself was dead and gone.”

“I see.”

“Yes, and they’re going to take the railroad that way now, so it looks as if Bill Giggle’s in for a nice thing, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Alleyn, “it does.”

He was rather silent after that. They drove through country lanes past a mild sequence of open fields, small holdings, spinneys, and a private golf course, to the gates of Deepacres Park. The house was hidden by trees and as they climbed a long winding avenue Fox began to look solemnly impressed.

“A show-place, seemingly,” said Fox.