‘Oh, he said he’d been framed. That the loaded dice must have been passed by one of the players.’

‘But that’s ridiculous,’ Craig said. ‘I could imagine a player trying to substitute dice that would win for him, but not a pair that would lose. Anyway, a club’s dice have to be specially manufactured and accounted for. It’s a regulation of the Gaming Act expressly aimed at stamping out this sort of thing.’

Miller moved along the bench and picked up a small stick of lead. ‘Easy enough for a man with some technical know-how to inject a little lead into a pair of plastic dice.’

‘But what would be the point of the exercise?’

‘I think that’s been achieved, don’t you?’

‘Well, I’m hardly likely to shed tears over Max Vernon, am I?’

‘I suppose not.’

Miller wandered round the bench and paused beside a curious contrivance – a long, chromium tube mounted on a tripod. It had a pistol grip at one end and what appeared to be a pair of small headphones clipped to a hook.

‘What’s this – a secret weapon?’

Craig chuckled. ‘Hardly – it’s a directional microphone.’

Miller was immediately interested. ‘I’ve heard of those. How do they work?’

‘It’s a simple electronic principle. The tube is lined with carbon to exclude side noises, traffic for instance. You aim it by ear through the headphones. It can pick up a conversation three hundred yards away.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Of course these are even handier.’ He picked up a small metal disk that was perhaps half an inch thick and little larger than a wrist watch. ‘Not only a microphone but also a radio transmitter. Works well up to a range of a hundred yards or so if you use a fountain pen receiver. Wire that up to a pocket tape recorder and you’re in business.’

‘What as?’ Miller asked.

‘That depends on the individual, doesn’t it?’

‘I suppose you’re aware that all these gadgets are illegal?’

‘Not for the Managing Director of Gulf Electronics.’

Miller shook his head. ‘You’re a fool, Colonel. Carry on like this and you’ll be in trouble up to your neck.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Craig smiled blandly. ‘By the way, harking back to what you said earlier about doctoring the dice. One would have to get hold of them first.’

‘Easy enough to get into a place like the Flamingo, especially in the small hours just after they’ve closed.’

‘I should have thought that might have presented some difficulty.’

‘Not for the kind of man who broke into a Vichy prison in 1942 and spirited away four resistance workers who were due to be executed next morning.’

Craig laughed. ‘Now you’re flattering me.’