‘It concerns ME,’ she cried and he could imagine how widely her eyes opened at the telephone.

‘Perhaps if you would just say what it is,’ Alleyn suggested. He looked across at Fox who, with his spectacles half-way down his nose, blankly contemplated his superior and listened at the other telephone. Alleyn crossed his eyes and protruded his tongue.

‘ – I can’t really, not on the telephone. It’s too complicated. Look – I’m sure you’re up to your ears and not for the wide, wide world would I – ’ The lovely voice moved unexpectedly into its higher and less mellifluous register. ‘I’m nervous,’ it said rapidly. ‘I’m afraid. I’m terrified. I’m being threatened.’ Alleyn heard a distant bang and a male voice. Destiny Meade whispered in his ear, ‘Please come. Please come.’ Her receiver clicked and the dialling tone set in.

‘Now who in Melpomene’s dear name,’ Alleyn said, ‘does that lovely lady think she’s leading down the garden path? Or is she? By gum, if she is,’ he said, ‘she’s going to get such a tap on the temperament as hasn’t come her way since she hit the headlines. When are we due with Conducis? Five o’clock. It’s now half past two. Find us a car, Br’er Fox, we’re off to Cheyne Walk.’

Fifteen minutes later they were shown into Miss Destiny Meade’s drawing-room.

It was sumptuous to a degree and in maddeningly good taste: an affair of mushroom-coloured curtains, dashes of Schiaparelli pink, dull satin, Sévres plaques and an unusual number of orchids. In the middle of it all was Destiny wearing a heavy sleeveless sheath with a mink collar: and not at all pleased to see Inspector Fox.

‘Kind, kind,’ she said, holding out her hand at her white arm’s length for Alleyn to do what he thought best with. ‘Good afternoon,’ she said to Mr Fox.

‘Now, Miss Meade,’ Alleyn said briskly, ‘what’s the matter?’ He reminded himself of a mature Hamlet.

‘Please sit down. No, please. I’ve been so terribly distressed and I need your advice so desperately.’

Alleyn sat, as she had indicated it, in a pink velvet buttoned chair. Mr Fox took the least luxurious of the other chairs and Miss Meade herself sank upon a couch, tucked up her feet which were beautiful and leant superbly over the arm to gaze at Alleyn. Her hair, coloured raven black for the Dark Lady, hung like a curtain over her right jaw and half her cheek. She raised a hand to it and then drew the hand away as if it had hurt her. Her left ear was exposed and embellished with a massive diamond pendant.

‘This is so difficult,’ she said.

‘Perhaps we could fire point-blank.’

‘Fire? Oh, I see. Yes. Yes, I must try, mustn’t I?’

‘If you please.’