‘It would be easy to say I told you so, Miller, but there it is,’ Mallory said.

Miller took a deep breath. ‘No possibility of error, sir?’

‘None at all. He’s given us a full statement. It seems he waited outside Faulkner’s flat, saw Faulkner and the girl go in and followed her when she came out. He pulled her into Dob Court where they had some kind of reconciliation because she allowed him to have intercourse with her and she gave him the ten-pound note.’

‘What went wrong?’

‘God alone knows – I doubt if we’ll ever get a clear picture. Apparently there was some sort of argument to do with Faulkner and the money. I get the impression that after the way he had treated him, Phillips objected to the idea that Faulkner might have had his way with the girl. The money seemed to indicate that he had.’

‘So he killed her?’

‘Apparently she taunted him, there was an argument and he started to hit her. Lost his temper completely. Didn’t mean to kill her of course. They never do.’

‘Do you think a jury might believe that?’

‘With his background? Not in a month of Sundays.’ The telephone rang. Mallory picked up the receiver, listened for a moment, then put it down. ‘Another nail in the coffin. It seems the manager of the station buffet has turned up the assistant who changed that ten-pound note last night. Seems she can identify Phillips. He was a regular customer. She says he was in there about a quarter to eleven.’

‘The bloody fool,’ Miller said.

‘They usually are, Miller, and a good thing for us, I might add.’

‘But what on earth is Faulkner playing at? I don’t understand.’

‘Let’s have him in and find out shall we?’

Mallory sat back and started to fill his pipe. Miller opened the door and called and Faulkner came in followed by Jack Morgan.

Faulkner looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He stood in front of the desk, trenchcoat draped from his shoulders like a cloak, hands pushed negligently into his pockets.

Mallory busied himself with his pipe. When it was going to his satisfaction, he blew out the match and looked up. ‘Mr Faulkner, I have here a full and complete confession to the murder of Grace Packard signed by Harold Phillips. What have you got to say to that?’

‘Only that it would appear that I must now add a gift for prophecy to the list of my virtues,’ Faulkner said calmly.

Morgan came forward quickly. ‘Is this true, Superintendent?’

‘It certainly is. We’ve even managed to turn up the ten-pound note your client gave the girl. Young Phillips changed it at the station buffet before going home.’