"Is that Miss Vaughan? Please forgive me for bothering you. I am ringing up from Surbonadier's flat. We intended to go through his papers this afternoon, but I find it's going to be a very big job. There are some letters." He paused. "Yes. I realise it is very disagreeable and I think it would be easiest for you if you could meet me here, and should there be any questions I can ask them straight away. That is extremely kind of you. I am locking the place up now and leaving it, but I thought of returning about nine this evening? Could you come then? May I pick you up? Oh, I see. At nine o'clock, then. Goodbye." He hung up the receiver. "What's the time?" he asked.

"Five o'clock," said Nigel.

"Fox—will you take the papers back to the Yard and let Bailey have them? And tell the constable outside he can go."

"Go!" echoed Fox dazedly.

"Yes, and don't send anyone to relieve him. I'm staying on here myself."

"Until nine?" asked Nigel.

"Until nine—or earlier."

"Anything I can do?"

"Yes," said Alleyn. "You can get hold of Felix Gardener again. You can tell him the police believe Surbonadier to have written the article in the Morning Express. Ask him if he can give us more information about Surbonadier's Cambridge days. Anything at all that he can remember. There may be something he's holding back. He's feeling jumpy, you tell me. If he's got the idea we're suspecting him his natural reaction will be to disclaim any previous relationship with Surbonadier."

Nigel looked uncomfortable.

"I don't like the idea of pumping him."

"Then you are useless. I'll see him myself."

"Sorry if I'm tiresome."

"All amateurs are tiresome. You want to be in on this, but you shy off anything that is at all unpleasant. We had this out before in the Wilde case. You'd much better keep out of it, Bathgate. I should have said so at the beginning."

"If you can assure me Felix is safe——"