‘There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind, Helena, and I should have thought little in yours. These appalling cases that have occurred! The papers are full of them. The Peeping Tom of Peckham, though how he has managed to go there every night from Halkin Street—’

Alleyn gave a stifled exclamation.

‘From Halkin Street?’ repeated Lady Alleyn.

‘There is no doubt that his wife’s appalling behaviour has turned his head. He suspected poor Robert Gospell. You must have heard, as I did, how he asked her to let him take her home. No doubt he was searching for them. The jury will bring in a strong recommendation for mercy or perhaps they will find him guilty but insane, as no doubt he is.’

‘But, Lucy! Lucy, listen. Whom are you talking about?’

‘Don’t be a fool, Helena, who should it be but George Halcut-Hackett?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Night Club

‘WELL, RODERICK,’ said Lady Alleyn when she had at last got rid of Lucy Lorrimer, ‘you may be able to make something of this but it seems to me that Lucy has at last gone completely insane. Do you for an instant suppose that poor old General Halcut-Hackett is the Peeping Tom of Peckham?’

‘Some case the Press had made into a front-page story—no, of course, it’s completely irrelevant. But all the same it does look as though old Halcut-Hackett flattened his face against the window of Lucy Lorrimer’s car.’

‘But Lucy stayed till the end, she says, and I know he took that unfortunate child away soon after midnight. What was the poor creature doing in Belgrave Square at half-past three?’

‘He told me he went for a constitutional,’ murmured Alleyn.

‘Rubbish. One doesn’t peer into old ladies’ cars when one takes constitutionals at half-past three in the morning. The whole thing’s preposterous.’

‘It’s so preposterous that I’m afraid it must be included in my dreary programme. Would you care to come to a night club with me, mama?’

‘No thank you, Rory.’

‘I thought not. I must go alone to the Matador. I imagine they open at about eleven.’

‘Nobody goes until after midnight or later,’ said Lady Alleyn.

‘How do you know?’

‘Sarah is forever pestering me to allow her to “go on to the Matador”. She now hopes to produce a chaperone, but I imagine it is scarcely the haunt of chaperones. I have no intention of letting her go.’

‘It’s one of those places that offer the attractions of a tiny dancing-floor, a superlative band and a crowd so dense that you spend the night dancing cheek-to-cheek with somebody else’s partner. It is so dimly lit that the most innocent visitor takes on an air of intrigue and the guiltiest has at least a sporting chance of going unrecognized.’

‘You seem to be remarkably familiar with its amenities,’ said his mother dryly.