‘Look here, sergeant,’ he whispered. ‘Here’s what you have been wanting.’ There was a division in the book for each day of the year, with notes of engagements or other matters in most. At the bottom of the space for the previous day—the portion which would probably refer to the evening—was written the words: ‘Graham, 9.00 p.m.’ ‘There it is,’ went on Dr Ames. ‘That’s where he was going last night. He evidently intended to consult Dr Graham privately. As it was too far to walk round by the road, and he didn’t want to get a car out, he thought he would take a short cut by rowing across the river.’ The sergeant made a gesture of satisfaction. ‘You have it, sir. That’s just what he’s done. I don’t mind saying that was bothering me badly. But now, thanks to you, sir, the whole thing is cleared up. I’ll go over to Dr Graham’s directly, and see if I can’t learn something about it from him.’ ‘I have an operation in an hour and I must go back to Halford, but I’ll come out again in the afternoon, and have another look at the body. If you call in with me tonight I’ll let you have the certificate.’ ‘There’ll have to be an inquest, of course, sir.’ ‘Of course. It should be arranged for tomorrow.’ ‘It’ll be for the coroner to fix the time, but I would suggest eleven or twelve. I’ll call round tonight anyway sir, and let you know.’ Taking Smith, the gardener-boatman, and the constable who had helped to carry the body, the sergeant returned to the site of the accident. The river was falling rapidly, and with some trouble the four men succeeded in getting the damaged boat ashore. Smith identified it immediately as the _Alice_. A careful search in the neighbourhood brought to light the rudder and bottom boards—each split and torn from the rocks. But there was no sign of the oars or rowlocks. It was useless, the sergeant thought, to look for the rowlocks. They would be at the bottom of the river. But the oars should be recoverable. Sending the two men downstream to search for them, he himself took the Argyle, which Austin had left for the convenience of the police, and drove to Dr Graham’s. That gentleman had not heard the news and was profoundly shocked, but when the sergeant went on to ask his question, he denied emphatically that there had been any appointment for the previous evening. Sir William, he stated, was a personal and valued friend, and they had often visited at each other’s houses, but he had never met the deceased in a professional capacity. He believed Dr Ames was Sir William’s medical adviser. ‘But, of course,’ Dr Graham concluded, ‘it is quite possible he may have wished to consult privately. He knows I am usually to be found in my study about nine, and he may have intended to walk up unobserved by the path through the shrubbery, come to the study direct, and enter by the French window.’ ‘Very likely, sir,’ returned the sergeant, as he thanked Dr Graham and took his leave.