‘I think so, sir. He’s very concerned on Miss Troy’s behalf. He’s been ringing her up, but apparently she didn’t exactly encourage him to go down there. He’s a very open sort of young gentleman and said she always treated him as if he was a schoolboy. However, the time at the club’s all right. The porter says definitely he let Miss Troy in at two-twenty. She exclaimed at the time, he says, so he remembered that. He says neither she nor Miss Bostock came out again, but he sits in a little cubby-hole by the lift, and may have dozed off. The garage is open all night. Their car was by the door. The chap there admits he slipped out to the coffee stall at about three o’clock.’ Fox glanced up from the notes, looked fixedly at Alleyn’s white face, and then cleared his throat. ‘Not that I’m suggesting there’s anything in that,’ he said.

‘Go on,’ said Alleyn.

‘Well, sir, we may still admit there’s a possibility in the cases of these two ladies and Malmsley. On the evidence in this file I’d say all the others are wash-outs. That leaves us with what you might call a narrowed field. The Hon. Basil Pilgrim, Miss Seacliff, Miss Troy, Miss Bostock, and Mr Malmsley.’

‘Yes. Oh Lord, Fox, I forgot to ask Bathgate if he had any success with Miss Bobbie O’Dawne. I must be sinking into a detective’s dotage. I’d better go along and tell the AC about this afternoon. Then I’ll write up my report and I think this evening we’d better go broody on the case.’

Alleyn had a long interview with his Assistant Commissioner, a dry man with whom he got on very well. He then wrote up his report and took Fox off to dine at his own flat in a cul-de-sac off Coventry Street. After dinner they settled down over the fire to a systematic review of the whole case.

At eleven o’clock, while they were still at it, Nigel turned up.

‘Hullo,’ said Alleyn, ‘I rather wanted to see you.’

‘I guessed as much,’ said Nigel complacently.

‘Get yourself a drink. How did you hit it off with Bobbie O’Dawne? I see your extraordinary paper has come out strong with a simpering portrait.’

‘Good, isn’t it? She liked me awfully. We clicked.’

‘Anything to the purpose?’

‘Ah, ah, ah! Wouldn’t you like to know!’

‘We are not in the mood,’ said Alleyn, ‘for comedy.’