‘Congratulations,’ Miller said. ‘You did a good job – on the girl, I mean. Stupid little tart like that deserves all she gets.’

It was all it took. The Gunner tried to sit up, actually tried to get at him. ‘You dirty bastard. She’s worth ten of you – any day of the week. In my book you aren’t fit to clean her shoes.’

‘Neither are you.’

‘The only difference between us is I know it. Now get to hell out of here and leave me alone.’

He closed his eyes as Miller turned on her and limped out. The door clicked and there was only the silence. He heard no sound and yet something seemed to move and then there was the perfume very close.

He opened his eyes and found her bending over him. ‘Oh, Gunner,’ she said. ‘Whatever am I going to do with you?’

Miller sat on the end of Mallory’s bed to make his report. The Chief Superintendent had a room to himself in the private wing as befitted his station. There were already flowers in the corner and his wife was due to arrive within the hour.

‘So you’ve left them together?’ Mallory said.

Miller nodded. ‘He isn’t going to run anywhere.’

‘What about the leg? How bad is it?’

‘Not too good, according to the consultant in charge. He’ll be lame for the rest of his life. It could have been worse, mind you.’

‘No more second-storey work at any rate,’ Mallory commented.

‘Which could make this injury a blessing in disguise,’ Miller pointed out.

Mallory shook his head. ‘I hardly think so. Once a thief always a thief and Doyle’s a good one – up there with the best. Clever, resourceful, highly intelligent. When you think of it, he hasn’t done anything like the time he should have considering what he’s got away with in the past. He’ll find something else that’s just as crooked, mark my words.’

Which was probably true, but Miller wasn’t going down without a fight. ‘On the other hand if he hadn’t been around last night Jenny Crowther would have been number five on Faulkner’s list and we’d have been no further forward. I’d also like to point out that we’d have been in a damn bad way without him up there on the roof.’

‘Which is exactly how the newspapers and the great British public will see it, Miller,’ Mallory said. ‘You needn’t flog it to death. As a matter of interest I’ve already dictated a report for the Home Secretary in which I state that in my opinion Doyle had earned any break we can give him.’

Miller’s tiredness dropped away like an old cloak. ‘What do you think that could mean – a pardon?’