Morgan turned on Faulkner, his face white and strained. ‘What in the hell have you been playing at, for God’s sake? You told us that you killed Grace Packard.’

‘Did I?’ Faulkner shrugged. ‘The other way about as I remember it. You told me.’ He turned to Mallory. ‘Mr Morgan, like all lawyers, Superintendent, has a tendency to believe his own arguments. Once he’d made up his mind I was the culprit, he couldn’t help but find proof everywhere he looked.’

‘Are you trying to say you’ve just been playing the bloody fool as usual?’ Morgan pulled him round angrily. ‘Don’t you realize what you’ve done to Joanna?’

‘She had a choice. She could have believed in me. She took your road.’ Faulkner seemed completely unconcerned. ‘I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. Can I go now, Superintendent?’

‘I think that might be advisable,’ Mallory said.

Faulkner turned in the doorway, the old sneer lifting the corner of his mouth as he glanced at Miller. ‘Sorry about that promotion – better luck next time.’

After he had gone there was something of a silence. Morgan just stood there, staring wildly into space. Quite suddenly he turned and rushed out without a word.

Miller stood at the window for a long moment, staring down into the rain. He saw Faulkner come out of the main entrance and go down the steps. He paused at the bottom to button his trenchcoat, face lifted to the rain, then walked rapidly away. Morgan appeared a moment later. He watched Faulkner go then hailed a taxi from the rank across the street.

Miller took out his wallet, produced a pound note and laid it on Mallory’s desk. ‘I was wrong,’ he said simply.

Mallory nodded. ‘You were, but I won’t hold that against you. In my opinion Faulkner’s probably just about as unbalanced as it’s possible to be and still walk free. He’d impair anyone’s judgement.’

‘Nice of you to put it that way, but I was still wrong.’

‘Never mind.’ Mallory stood up and reached for his coat. ‘If you can think of anywhere decent that will still be open on a Sunday afternoon I’ll buy you a late lunch out of my ill-gotten gains.’

‘Okay, sir. Just give me ten minutes to clear my desk and I’m your man.’

The rain was falling heavier than ever as they went down the steps of the Town Hall to the Mini-Cooper. Miller knew a restaurant that might fit the bill, an Italian place that had recently opened in one of the northern suburbs of the city and he drove past the Infirmary and took the car through the maze of slum streets behind it towards the new Inner Ring Road.