‘Try and arrange your murders at a more convenient hour next time will you,’ he said plaintively. ‘My first Saturday night out in two months ruined. My wife was hopping mad, I can tell you.’

‘My heart bleeds for you, Jack,’ Miller said amiably. ‘Where’s the top brass?’

‘Having tea inside. I shouldn’t think you rate a cup.’

Miller opened the door on the other side of the office and went into the white-tiled hall outside the theatre. Mallory was there, seated at a small wooden table talking to Henry Wade, the Head of Forensic, and Professor Stephen Murray, the University Professor of Pathology, a tall spare Scot.

Murray knew Miller socially through his brother and greeted him with the familiarity of an old friend. ‘You still look as if you’ve stepped straight out of a whisky advert, Nick, even at eight-fifteen in the morning. How are you?’

‘Fine – nothing that a couple of weeks’ leave wouldn’t cure.’ Miller turned to Mallory. ‘I’ve just been handed the report on Faulkner from C.R.O.’

‘Anything interesting?’

‘I think you could say that, sir. Harry Meadows wasn’t wrong – he does have a record. Fined twice for assault and then about two years ago he ran amok at some arty Chelsea party.’

‘Anybody hurt?’

‘His agent. Three broken ribs and a fractured jaw. Faulkner’s a karate expert so when he loses his temper it can have rather nasty results.’

‘Did they send him down?’

‘Six months and he did the lot. Clocked one of the screws and lost all his remission.’

‘Anything known against him since?’

‘Not a thing. Apparently some sort of psychiatric investigation was carried out when he was inside so there’s quite an interesting medical report. Should be along soon.’

Mallory seemed curiously impatient. ‘All right, all right, we’ll talk about it later.’ He turned to Professor Murray. ‘What do you think then, is this another Rainlover thing or isn’t it?’

‘That’s for you to decide,’ Murray said. ‘I’m the last man to make that kind of prediction – I’ve been at this game too long. If you mean are there any obvious differences between this murder and the others, all I can say is yes and leave you to form your own conclusions.’

‘All right, Professor, fire away.’

Murray lit a cigarette and paced up and down restlessly. ‘To start with the features which are similar. As in all the other cases, the neck was broken cleanly with a single powerful blow, probably a blunt instrument with a narrow edge.’

‘Or the edge of the hand used by an expert,’ Miller suggested.

‘You’re thinking of karate, I suppose,’ Murray smiled faintly. ‘Always possible, but beware of trying to make the facts fit your own suppositions, Nick. A great mistake in this game, or so I’ve found.’

‘What other similarities were present, Professor?’ Mallory asked, obviously annoyed at Miller’s interruption.