Pritchard turned and faced me. ‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘We know Chief’s not the double. He was murdered.’

I took out another cigarette. I was down to ten, but it didn’t matter. I needed something to calm me down - and something to keep my hands from shaking.

I’d allowed Chief’s death to drift to the back of my mind in the last few hours. I should have known it wouldn’t go away for very long. I took a deep draught of the cigarette and asked Pritchard why murder was now suspected.

‘Five have found traces of blood and matter in his living room,’ he said. ‘And a bullethole in one of the walls. The killer had tried to conceal it by moving the piano. They’re looking into what kind of gun might have been used. At any rate, he was shot. Most probably by the real traitor. By the way, are your fingerprints on file?’

Despite the sunlight streaming into the room, I suddenly felt very cold. I shook my head. ‘Why?’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Five are planning to take prints of anyone in the office old enough to have been turned in ’45. It’s more so they can rule people out than anything. Lift any clouds of suspicion. You can have yours taken when you get back.’

‘Of course.’ I made the extra effort to keep my voice steady. ‘Why would the traitor want to kill Chief, though?’

Pritchard shrugged. ‘Perhaps he knew something that would give him away. Perhaps . . .’ He stopped. ‘I must say, you don’t appear too surprised.’

‘That Chief was murdered? Of course I’m surprised. I’m just trying to think it through.’ I thought I had sounded flabbergasted, but Pritchard was evidently now viewing my every utterance with suspicion. ‘Has Vanessa been told?’

‘Not yet. But they’ll have to do it soon, because she’s already going spare. Osborne’s speaking to her tonight.’ He gestured at the case lying by my feet. ‘Is that the item you found in the nightclub?’

I nodded, relieved to be moving onto safer ground. I took out the rifle and positioned it on the floor so he could have a good look.

He walked around it, twice. ‘Looks like an AK-47,’ he said. ‘But it’s not, is it? It’s a sniper rifle.’ There was no visible reaction on his face, no sudden dawning realization.