Peregrine waited until Charles Random arrived. ‘If you want me,’ he then said to Alleyn, ‘I’ll be in the corridor.’

Random brought a number of dubious-looking comics. ‘Knowing your taste in literature,’ he said to Trevor. ‘Not that I approve.’

Trevor indicated his tray. As Random approached him, he put on a sly look. ‘Really,’ he said, ‘you shouldn’t have troubled, Mr Random.’

They stared at each other, their faces quite close together: Random’s guarded, shuttered, wary and Trevor’s faintly impertinent.

‘You’ve got a bruise on your cheekbone,’ Random said.

‘That’s nothing. You should see the rest.’

‘Keep you quiet for a bit.’

‘That’s right.’

Random turned his head slowly and looked at Alleyn. ‘Police taking a great interest, I see,’ he said.

‘Routine,’ Alleyn rejoined. ‘Merely routine.’

‘At a high level.’ Random drew back quickly from Trevor who giggled and opened his bundle of comics. ‘Oh, fabulous,’ he said. ‘It’s ‘Slash’ Z-zzz-yock!’ He became absorbed.

‘That being that,’ Random said, ‘I shall bow myself off. Unless,’ he added, ‘the Superintendent is going to arrest me.’

Trevor, absorbed in his comic, said: ‘You never know, do you? Cheerie-bye and ta.’

Random moved towards the door. ‘Get better quick,’ he murmured. Trevor looked up and winked. ‘What do you think?’ he said.

Random opened the door and disclosed Miss Bracey on the threshold.

They said: ‘Oh, hallo, dear,’ simultaneously and Random added: ‘This gets more like a French farce every second. Everyone popping in and out. Wonderful timing.’

They both laughed with accomplishment and he went away.

Gertrude behaved as if she and Alleyn had never met. She said good-morning in a poised voice and clearly expected him to leave. He responded politely, indicated the bedside chair, called Trevor’s attention to his visitor and himself withdrew to the window.

Miss Bracey said: ‘You have been in the wars, dear, haven’t you?’ She advanced to the bedside and placed a small parcel on the table. Trevor lifted his face to hers, inviting an embrace. Their faces came together and parted and Miss Bracey sank into the chair.

‘I mustn’t stay too long: you’re not to be tired,’ she said. She was quite composed. Only that occasional drag at the corner of her mouth suggested to Alleyn that she had fortified herself. She made the conventional inquiries as to Trevor’s progress and he responded with an enthusiastic account of his condition. The worst case of concussion, he said importantly, that they’d ever seen in the ward.

‘Like what you read about,’ he said. ‘I was – ’

He stopped short and for a moment looked puzzled. ‘I was having a bit of fun,’ he began again. ‘You know, Miss Bracey. Just for giggles. I was having old Jobbins on.’

‘Yes?’ said Miss Bracey. ‘That was naughty of you, dear, wasn’t it?’

‘But,’ Trevor said, frowning. ‘You know. You were there. Weren’t you?’ he added doubtfully.