At various times, the girls paraded along the catwalk, displaying their ample charms in a manner the Lord Chamberlain would have found very difficult to accept. All the time, the comedian kept up a line of patter that verged on the obscene.

There was sweat on the faces at the tables in the half light beneath the catwalk, lust and desire and grasping hands that reached up to touch the legs of the girls parading above.

Finally, there was a sudden gasp as a completely naked coloured girl appeared from behind the curtains and started a slow, careful promenade that reduced the room to silence and awe. She half turned, the room was plunged into darkness and a light bulb flashed between her ample buttocks.

‘Ten thousand volts,’ the comedian cried and as the lights came on again, the room rocked with laughter.

Nick turned to reach for his drink and found Molly standing a few feet away looking at him. She was somewhere in her late twenties, a striking redhead in a green dress that showed off to advantage a figure that was still worth looking at. There was strength in her face, a touch of arrogance, but when she looked at Nick and smiled, there was nothing but warmth there.

‘It’s been a long time, Nick.’

‘Too long.’ He took her hands and held them tightly for a moment. ‘I’ve been away for a year – on a course.’

‘So I heard. Detective Sergeant now they tell me.’

‘That’s right. With Central Division. Let me buy you a drink.’

She shook her head. ‘Not here. This is strictly for the mugs and that goes for the kind of booze we sell them too. Let’s go up to my office.’

She threaded her way between the tables, dropping a word here and there, mounted a few steps beside the stage and went through a door marked Private. Inside, they passed what were obviously the girls’ dressing-rooms, and finally came to another door which opened into a small and rather severely furnished room with filing cabinets, a desk and several telephones.

Molly opened a cabinet, took out a bottle of whisky and filled a glass. She handed it to him with a slight smile. ‘Irish, pot distilled. I remember what you like.’

‘Aren’t you having one?’

‘Straight poison. I’ll never have another drink as long as I live.’ She grinned. ‘Besides, it slows you down.’

He looked around the room curiously and shook his head. ‘Somehow this doesn’t seem you.’

‘This is my office,’ she said calmly and sat down in the chair behind the desk. ‘Strictly business. Isn’t that what you’re here for?’

‘You must read me like a book.’

‘I should be able to. I’ve known you long enough.’ She chuckled. ‘Remember when we first met? You were a young probationer pounding a pavement and I was a probationer of another sort.’