Harriet Craig moved through the crowd to Miller’s side. ‘They are getting excited, aren’t they?’

Before he could reply, Vernon appeared on the scene, pushing his way through the crowd, his face angry. ‘What’s going on here?’

‘I was just going to ask you the same question, Vernon,’ the white-haired man said. ‘To start with you’ll oblige me by throwing these dice.’

Vernon stood there, holding them in his hand, a bewildered frown on his face and then he threw. There was a roar from the crowd and the white-haired man gathered them up quickly.

‘That settles it. Somebody better get the police.’ He turned and addressed the crowd. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve dropped four hundred pounds here during the past couple of weeks and I’m not leaving till I get it back.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen – please.’ Vernon raised his arms in an attempt to placate them, but it was no use.

The voices rose angrily on either side and Miller pushed his way forward and tapped the white-haired man on the shoulder. ‘I think I’d better have those, sir.’

‘And who the devil might you be?’

‘Detective Sergeant Miller, Central C.I.D.’ Miller produced his warrant and the dice were passed over without a murmur.

Miller looked across at Vernon. ‘Are these your dice, sir?’

‘Of course not.’

‘I notice that in accordance with a specific regulation of the Gaming Act, they carry this club’s registered mark as placed there by the makers. What you are saying is that you have a full set without this pair? That these are forgeries?’

‘But that’s rubbish,’ the white-haired man put in. ‘What on earth would be the point of a player substituting for the real dice a pair that would make him lose every time he threw.’

Vernon’s shoulders sagged and his knuckles gleamed whitely as he gripped the edge of the table. He glared across at Miller, who returned his stare calmly.

‘Right – I think that’s it for tonight, Mr Vernon.’

‘What in hell do you mean?’ Vernon demanded furiously.

‘I mean that I’m closing you up.’

‘Yes, closing you up for good, you damned crook,’ the white-haired man said, leaning across the table.

For a moment, Vernon gazed wildly about him and then he turned, pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared upstairs.

It was just after eleven when Miller went down the Town Hall steps to the Cooper. The radio was playing faintly and when he opened the door, Harriet Craig sat in the passenger seat, humming softly to herself.

‘All finished?’ she said brightly.

Her handbag was at her feet and he picked it up without answering and searched it quickly.

‘What on earth are you looking for?’

‘The other pair of dice – the ones you palmed. Where are they?’

‘I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.’