‘We speak now of Mrs Halcut-Hackett’s bag which you took from the sofa at the Sirmione Concert. Do you deny that you took it?’

‘I refuse to prolong this interview. I shall answer no more questions without the advice of my solicitor. That is final.’

He rose to his feet. So did Alleyn and Fox.

‘Very well,’ said Alleyn. ‘I shall have to see you again, Mr Dimitri; and again, and I daresay again. Fox, will you show Mr Dimitri down?’

When the door had closed Alleyn spoke into his telephone.

‘My man is leaving. He’ll probably take a taxi. Who’s tailing him?’

‘Anderson relieving Carewe, sir.’

‘Ask him to report when he gets a chance, but not to take too big a chance. It’s important.’

‘Right, Mr Alleyn.’

Alleyn waited for Fox’s return. Fox came in grinning. ‘He’s shaken up a fair treat to see, Mr Alleyn. Doesn’t know if he’s Mayfair, Soho, or Wandsworth.’

‘We’ve a long way to go before he’s Wandsworth. How are we ever going to persuade women like Mrs Halcut-Hackett to charge their blackmailers? Not in a lifetime, unless—’

‘Unless what?’

‘Unless the alternative is even more terrifying. Fox, do you think it within the bounds of possibility that Dimitri ordered his trifle of caviare and champagne at Sir Herbert’s expense, that François departed and Dimitri, hurriedly acquiring a silk hat and overcoat, darted out by the back door just in time to catch Lord Robert in the mist, ask him preposterously for a lift and drive away? Can you swallow this camel of unlikelihood and if so, can you open your ponderous and massy jaws still farther and engulf the idea of Dimitri performing his murder and subsequent masquerade, returning to Marsdon House, and settling down to his supper without anybody noticing anything out of the ordinary?’

‘When you put it that way, sir, it does sound funny. But we don’t know it’s impossible.’

‘No, we don’t. He’s about the right height. I’ve a strong feeling, Fox, that Dimitri is not working this blackmail game on his own. We’re not allowed strong feelings, so ignore it. If there is another scoundrel in the game they’ll try to get into touch. We’ll have to do something about that. What’s the time? One o’clock, I’m due at Sir Daniel’s at two and I’ll have to see the AC before then. Coming?’

‘I’ll do a bit of work on the file first. We ought to hear from the fellow at Leatherhead any time now. You go to lunch, Mr Alleyn. When did you last eat anything?’

‘I don’t know. Look here—’

‘Did you have any breakfast?’ asked Fox, putting on his spectacles and opening the file.

‘Good Lord, Fox, I’m not a hothouse lily.’

‘This isn’t a usual case, sir, for you. It’s a personal matter, say what you like, and you’ll do no good if you try and work it on your nerves.’

Fox glanced at Alleyn over the top of his spectacles, wetted his thumb, and turned a page.