‘Coombe’s giving me a bed. The pubs are full. I must go. It’s seven o’clock.’

‘You will dine with me, perhaps?’

‘I don’t think – ’ He stopped. ‘On second thoughts,’ he said, ‘I should be delighted. Thank you very much.’

‘Are you going to “taste” my wine?’ she asked, ironically.

‘And I might do that, too,’ he said.

III

He left her at nine.

She had settled for the eleven o’clock train from Dunlowman in the morning. He had arranged to book a seat for her and drive her to the station. He had also telephoned her bonne-à-tout-faire as she called the pugnacious Cockney who, in spite of Miss Emily’s newly acquired riches, served her still. He saw that the outside doors to her apartment could be locked and made certain that, on his departure, she would lock them. He bade her good night and went downstairs, wondering how big a fuss he might be making over nothing in particular.

Major Barrimore was in the office smelling very strongly of whisky, smoking a large cigar and poring uncertainly over a copy of The Racing Supplement. Alleyn approached him.

‘Major Barrimore? Miss Pride has asked me to tell you she will be leaving at ten in the morning and would like coffee and toast in her room at eight o’clock.’

‘Would she, by God!’ said the Major thickly and appeared to pull himself together. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll lay it on.’

‘Thank you.’

Alleyn had turned away when the Major, slurring his words a little but evidently under a tight rein, said: ‘Afraid the lady hasn’t altogether enjoyed her visit.’

‘No?’

‘No. Afraid not. But if she’s been –’ he swayed very slightly and leant on the desk. ‘Hope she hasn’t been giving us a bad chit,’ he said. ‘Dunno who I’m talking to, acourse. Have the advantage of me, there.’

‘I’m a police officer,’ Alleyn said. ‘Superintendent Alleyn, CID.’

‘Good God! She’s called in the Yard!’

‘No. I’m an old friend of Miss Pride’s. The visit was unofficial.’

Major Barrimore leant across the desk with an uncertain leer. ‘I say,’ he said, ‘what is all this? You’re no damned copper, old boy. You can’t gemme t’ b’lieve that. I know my drill. ‘F y’ask me – more like a bloody guardee. What?’

Patrick and Jenny came into the hall from the old house.

‘I think I’ll just run up, first, and see how Miss Pride is,’ Jenny was saying.

‘Must you?’

‘She’s all right,’ Major Barrimore said loudly. ‘She’s under police protection. Ask this man. M’ – I – introduce Miss Jenny Williams and my step-son? Superintendent, or so he tells me…Sorry, I forget your name, sir.’

‘Alleyn.’

They murmured at each other. Patrick said to his step-father: ‘I’ll take the office if you’d like to knock off.’