“Did he tell you the source of the rumour?”

“No. There are always rumours, always sources. This was one amongst many.”

“What kind of an impact?”

“One that would embarrass our royal family and yours, if the letters were brought to light. The plebiscite is a little more than a month away. If we wish to restore the king, we cannot afford even the slightest hint of a scandal. Now it is my turn.”

“One moment,” said Sparks, turning to Mrs. Bainbridge, who had been studying Torgos carefully. “The arrangement is that he will ask the questions of you.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re not as good at hiding lies as I am.”

“That’s certainly true,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “This will be a different kind of dance, won’t it?”

“Not as pleasurable,” said Torgos. “Do you know where Magoulias is?”

“On a slab in the city mortuary,” said Mrs. Bainbridge.

“Is he?” breathed Torgos. “When? And how is it that you know this when we do not?”

“He was murdered sometime on Saturday afternoon,” said Mrs. Bainbridge. “We know it because we found his body. The police are keeping his identity secret.”

“Where was he killed?”

“In a bombed-out warehouse at Blackwell Yard. He had been stabbed.”

“Why were you there?”

“We were also after the letters.”

“Who killed him?”

“We have a theory,” said Mrs. Bainbridge.

“And we have a plan,” added Sparks.

“A plan? To do what?”

“Catch the man who did it,” replied Sparks.

“What if it was someone sympathetic to our cause?”

“He’s still a murderer,” said Mrs. Bainbridge firmly. “There is no cause worth that.”

Torgos gave her a sad smile. “I wish you were right about that,” he said. “Unfortunately, I have had to disagree with that principle on more than one occasion. You understand, don’t you, Miss Sparks?”

“Back to our questions,” said Sparks, ignoring him. “You knew Gerald Talbot.”

“I did.”

“You went to his funeral.”

“I go to many funerals,” said Torgos. “They amuse me.”

“What did Talbot have to do with Greek politics lately that so many of you attended? He’s been out of the game since twenty-two.”

“He never left the ‘game,’ as you call it. He played it on a higher level. One involving banks and railroad construction and arms. To many of us, he was the greatest friend we had here in England.”

“Do you know if he ever had those letters you mentioned?”

“He never said anything to me about them.”

“Would he have told you if he did have them?”

“I would like to think so,” said Torgos. “Gerald and I knew each other from the Great War. We wanted the same thing—for Greece to stay out of it. And we were successful on that account. It was an alliance that continued until his death.”

“Were you friends?” asked Mrs. Bainbridge.

“As much as two men in our professions could be, Mrs. Bainbridge.”

“Say he did have these letters,” said Sparks. “He would have made some provision for either their disposal or their preservation upon his death. To whom would he have entrusted them?”