Brady pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. ‘Pretty exclusive. We were certainly on the ball there.’

‘Apparently she dropped out of the course just over three months ago,’ Miller said. ‘It says here see personal file.’

‘That’s what I’m looking for.’ Henderson had opened another filing cabinet and was flicking rapidly through the green folders it contained. He nodded suddenly, took one out and opened it as he turned.

After a while he looked up and nodded. ‘I remember this case now, mainly because of her father.’

‘Her father?’

‘That’s right. A hell of a nice chap. I felt sorry for him at the time. He’s managing director of that new firm out on the York Road. Gulf Electronics.’

‘Why do you say you felt sorry for him?’

‘As I recall, she was giving him a hard time. When she first started here everything was fine and then about four months ago she seemed to go to pieces. Cutting lectures, not turning in her work on time, that sort of thing. We called him in to discuss the position.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘Now I remember. He brought his other daughter with him. Charming girl. A schoolteacher I believe. It emerged during the interview that he was a widower.’

‘What happened?’

‘He promised to try and straighten the girl out, but I’m afraid he had no luck in that direction. There was a nasty incident about a week later with one of the women lecturers. Harsh words and then the girl slapped her in the face. Naturally she had to go after that.’

Miller sat there in silence for a moment, thinking about it, and then got to his feet. He held out his hand. ‘You’ve helped us a great deal, Mr Henderson.’

‘Anything else I can do don’t hesitate to get in touch,’ Henderson said.

Outside, the pale afternoon sun picked out the vivid colours of the mosaic in the concrete face of the new shopping precinct on the other side of the road and Miller paused at the top of the steps to light a cigarette.

Jack Brady looked up at him, eyebrows raised, and Miller sighed. ‘And now comes the unpleasant bit.’

St Martin’s Wood was on the edge of the city, an exclusive residential area not far from Miller’s own home. The houses ran very much to a pattern, turn of the century mansions in grey stone, each one standing in an acre or two of garden. The house they were seeking stood at one end of a quiet cul-de-sac behind a high stone wall. Miller turned the Cooper in through the gates and drove along a wide gravel drive, braking to a halt at the bottom of a flight of shallow steps which led to the front door.