Morning brings new arithmetic. Dr. Armstrong has vanished. Vera, Lombard, and Blore comb every path and inlet; the gulls answer. The tide answers. The sea gives up the doctor—a drowned man bobbing among weed and rock. Now they are three. They retreat to the terrace; a crash sounds inland. Blore, who ran to check the house, is found with his skull shattered beneath a heavy, bear-shaped clock shoved from an upstairs window. The rhyme’s words are literalized with a grim little smile