‘Yeah.’ A moment later, Sam dug into his pocket, pulling out the piece of leather. ‘Listen, I don’t suppose you know what—’

Before he could finish, Norton stepped up to the table. He held a sticky glass, and the scent of Benedictine, herby and boozy, hung around him.

‘Captain Lowe,’ he said, pulling up one of the stools, ‘I’ve just been hearing the most marvellous stories from Giles. He said you were a smuggler ! Is that true?’

Norton’s necktie was loosened, his face flushed. At another time, Sam might have said that he was drunk, but just the day before he’d seen the man dispatch three double whiskies, and barely blink. Perhaps the heat was getting to him. He glanced over at Bet. Everyone knew the rumours about her, but there was something uncouth about saying it aloud, to her face. He shifted in his seat, but she only laughed.

‘All ancient history.’ She put out the cigar. Without it, she seemed smaller, older. She gave Norton a little smile. ‘How about another drink, dear boy?’

‘Of course.’ He was on his feet. ‘Beer was it? Back in a tick.’

Sam watched him move towards the bar, belching out a loud ‘excuse me’ to the Moroccan guys. He looked back to find Bet’s eyes fixed on Norton.

‘Hmm,’ she murmured, before levering herself to her feet. ‘I must have a word with Giles. Bring my drink over when it arrives, Sammy, there’s a love.’ Her eyes fell on the scrap of leather that lay forgotten on the table. ‘Where d’you get that old thing?’

‘This—’ He stared at her, before grabbing it up. ‘You know what this is?’

She gave him a pitying look. ‘You young people. I will admit though, most places use paper these days.’

‘Bet, what is this?’

She was searching through her handbag for something. ‘It’s a cloakroom tag, from the Continental. I’d recognize that old tomcat design anywhere. The manager used to write me the most obscene love notes on the hotel stationery. “Elizabetta, Pirate Queen”, he called me – where are you going?’

He had grabbed the writing case and was pushing his way towards the stairs, the tag clutched in his hand, not caring whose feet he stepped on. As he reached the doorway, Norton turned from the bar, his hands full of drinks, eyes fixed sharply on Bet. A second later, he saw Sam and his expression changed, melting into a wide smile. ‘Hey!’ he yelled.