“I came to that decision a while ago, in fact, but it’s taken a year for me to get the hook, Government generosity to our wounded heroes being what it is. And now I have it, I don’t actually want to get used to it, but needs must. I hope you don’t object to me leaving it on? It’s a sod to take off.”

“Why would I object?”

“Some people might call it unsightly.”

“Not in your own home, I hope.”

“You’d be amazed.” Wildsmith filled the teapot. “So to what do I owe this honour?”

“I’ve some news for you, and also a proposal.”

Wildsmith spun around, right hand to his chest. “La, sir! You do me too much honour.”

“Not that sort,” Aaron said, unable to bite back a smile.

Wildsmith mimed a sad face, to absurd effect. “Shame. Go on, then.”

“Firstly, I spoke to my cousin, Paul Napier-Fox. I advised him not to play the fool with the courts and said that I’d repeat what he told me if asked. If you get any further trouble from that quarter, let me know and I’ll deal with him.”

The mockery dropped away from Wildsmith’s face on the instant. Aaron almost wished it wouldn’t: he looked suddenly rather vulnerable. “Oh. That’s a relief. It was good of you to take the trouble.”

“Not at all. I spoke to Hollis too, and you needn’t worry further there. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Even better. Just milk, yes?”

“A splash.” Aaron came up to take the mug of tea, rather than Wildsmith carrying it over. That put them close for a moment, close enough for him to see a hint of copper stubble, a look of weariness around the light eyes.

He retreated to his chair in haste, and let the other man sit before he went on. “And I went to Marylebone Station to ask about Constable Sefton.”

He could all but see Wildsmith’s hackles spring up. “Did you. And what did you conclude?”

“I didn’t have to. He’s been suspended for gross misconduct.”

Wildsmith’s eyes widened. “Has he. Has he really.”

“Not related to your business. I mentioned it, without your name, to the officer dealing with the case, but—”

“Don’t tell me. He didn’t want to know.”

“You could still make a complaint.” Aaron hesitated, but had to add, “I don’t know if it would do you much good.”

“Of course not. It’s my word against Sefton’s, admission to indecent acts, blah blah, nobody cares.”

“Yes,” Aaron said. “I’m very sorry, but, yes.”

Wildsmith let out a long silent whew. “But you asked. Which was good of you. And they’re doing something about the swine, whatever their reasons, which is better. So I will chalk it up as a victory. Cheers.” He held up his mug. Aaron startled himself by leaning over to clink it.