‘See here, Rory, our position in this affair is that we’ve got to have a conviction. If your customer gets off on this sort of evidence, opposing counsel is going to make us look like so many Aunt Sallies. It’s so damn shaky. Can’t you hear what old Harrington-Barr will do with you if he’s briefed? Make you look a boiled egg, my good man, unless you’ve got a damning admission or two to shove at the jury. And all this blackmail stuff. How are you going to get any of these people to charge their blackmailer? You know what people are over blackmail.’

‘Yes, sir. I do rather hope for a damning admission.’

‘Do you, by Gad! All right, all right. See them in here. In my room. I’d better know the worst at once, I suppose.’ He scowled at Alleyn. ‘This goes a bit close to you, doesn’t it? Lord Robert was a friend of yours, wasn’t he?’

‘He was, sir, yes.’

‘Ugh! He was a nice little chap. I understand the FO is making tender enquiries. In case a foreign power remembers him pottering about twenty years ago and has decided to assassinate him. Silly asses. Well, I’m sorry you’ve had this knock, Rory. It doesn’t seem to have cramped your style. Quick work, if it’s accurate.’

‘If!’ said Alleyn. ‘I hope to Heaven we haven’t gone wrong.’

‘What time’s the dénouement tonight?’

‘Nine o’clock, sir.’

‘All right. Trot ’em along here. Thank you, Rory.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

On his return to his own room he found Fox was waiting for him.

‘Lady Carrados is downstairs, sir.’

‘Go and bring her up, Fox, will you?’

Fox turned in the doorway.

‘I’ve got on to The Times,’ he said. ‘They were a bit dignified about it but I know one of the chaps who deals with the agony-column notices and got hold of him. He told me the Childie Darling thing came by mail with a postal order for double rates and a request that it should appear, very particular, in this morning’s edition. The note said the advertiser would call to collect the change, if any, and was signed W.A.K. Smith, address GPO, Erith.’

‘Postmark?’

‘They’d lost the envelope but he’ll look for it. The writing,’ said Fox, ‘was in script on common notepaper.’

‘Was it indeed?’ murmured Alleyn.