‘I’ll be delighted. I’m a great lover of mysteries myself, or I was before this happened. They’re not such grand fun when you’re in the middle of ‘um. I’ll be in the private taproom when you want me. Don’t hurry now.’

‘Thank you,’ said Alleyn. Miss Darragh rose and squeezed past the table. Alleyn opened the door. She nodded cheerfully and went out.

‘Cool,’ said Fox, when Alleyn joined him. ‘You’d never think she had anything up her sleeve, sir, now would you?’

‘No, Fox, you wouldn’t. I wonder what line I’d better take with her. She’s as sharp as a needle.’

‘I’d say so,’ agreed Fox.

‘I think, Fox, you had better ask her, in your best company manners, to walk into our parlour. It looks more official. I must avoid that friend of the family touch—’ Alleyn stopped short and rubbed his nose. ‘Unless, indeed, I make use of it,’ he said. ‘Dear me, now, I wonder.’

‘What’s the friend-of-the-family touch, sir?’

‘Didn’t you hear? She has met my brother George who is physically as unlike me as may be. Mentally, too, I can’t help hoping. But perhaps that’s vanity. What do you think?’

‘I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Sir George, Mr Alleyn.’

‘He’s rather an old ass, I’m afraid. Have you finished?’

‘Yes, thank you, sir.’

‘Then I shall remove to the parlour. My compliments to Miss Darragh, Foxkin, and I shall be grateful if she will walk into my parlour. Lord, Lord, I hope I don’t make a botch of this.’

Alleyn went to the parlour. In a minute or two Fox came in with Miss Darragh.

Ever since he entered the detective service, Alleyn has had to set a guard against a habit of instinctive reactions to new acquaintances. Many times has he repeated to himself the elementary warning that roguery is not incompatible with charm. But he has never quite overcome certain impulses towards friendliness, and his austerity of manner is really a safeguard against this weakness, a kind of protective colouring, a uniform for behaviour.

When he met Violet Darragh he knew that she would amuse and interest him, that it would be easy to listen to her and pleasant to strike up a sort of friendship. He knew that he would find it difficult to believe her capable of double-dealing. He summoned the discipline of a system that trains its servants to a high pitch of objective watchfulness. He became extremely polite.

‘I hope you will forgive me,’ he said, ‘for suggesting that you should come in here. Mr Pomeroy has given us this room as a sort of office, and as all our papers—’

‘Ah, don’t worry yourself,’ said Miss Darragh. She took the armchair that Fox wheeled forward, wriggled into the deep seat, and tucked her feet up.