“You like post mortem work?”

“Love it.”

The little man’s black eyes were bright with laughter. He made himself comfortable on the straight-backed kitchen chair and smoked a cheroot with enjoyment.

“Edward Carlow, I understand, was forcibly drowned. Taking into account his diseased kidney and spotted liver, what kind of man, physically, must the murderer be?”

“A man who could take either you or me between his forefinger and thumb and pinch us in two separate parts, and then sit on each part and flatten it to mere parchment.”

Bony was not amused by being thus associated with the wispy, skinny little doctor. He said:

“Carlow’s body bore evidence of a fierce struggle?”

“It surely did. There were patches of ecchymosis all over him. He fought for his life in the shallow water of Answerth’s Folly, or he was first struck unconscious and then dragged into the water. Mud and weed from the bottom of the Folly were embedded under the fingernails, and weed and organisms were found in the water taken into the lungs and stomach. There were, of course, all the other appearances of drowning.”

“D’youknow if he could swim?”

“For years he was the beach guard at our annual aquatic sports,” Dr Lofty said slowly. “There’s no possible doubt that Carlow was forcibly held under water until he was dead.”

“How long, in your opinion, was the body submerged?”

“Eight to twelve hours.”

“Assuming that the body had not been found until it rose to the surface normally, do you think a superficial examination would have disclosed the fact that the dead man had fought desperately before drowning?”