Nicola stood up. ‘It’s a quarter to twelve,’ she said. ‘We must go, Andrew. Poor Troy!’

The telephone rang and Troy answered it. The voice at the other end said quite distinctly: ‘Darling?’

‘Hallo,’ Troy said. ‘Still at it?’

‘Very much so. Is Nicola with you?’

‘Yes,’ Troy said. ‘She and Andrew Bantling.’

‘Could I have a word with her?’

‘Here you are.’

Troy held out the receiver and Nicola took it feeling her heart thud stupidly against her ribs.

‘Hallo, Cid,’ she said.

‘Hallo, Nicola. There’s something that’s cropped up here that you might just possibly be able to give me a line about. After I left you today, did you discuss our conversation with anybody?’

‘Well, yes,’ she said. ‘With Andrew.’

‘Anyone else? Now don’t go jumping to conclusions, there’s a good child, but did Mr Period want to know if you told me anything about his luncheon party?’

Nicola swallowed. ‘Yes, he did. But it was only, poor lamb, because he hates the idea of your hearing about the digs Mr Cartell made at his snob-values. He was terribly keen to know if I’d told you anything about the baptismal register story.’

‘And you said you had told me?’

‘Well, I had to when he asked me point-blank. I made as little of it as I could.’

‘Yes. I see. One other thing and it’s important, Nicola. Do you, by any chance, know anything that would connect Mr Period with a popular song?’

‘A song! Not – not –’

‘Something about “Okay by me”.’

CHAPTER 7

Pixie

It had been five past eleven when Alleyn was summoned to the telephone. He and Fox having struck a blank in respect of the gloves, had been mulling over their notes in the Codling pub, when the landlord, avid with curiosity, summoned him.

‘It’s a call for you, sir,’ he said. ‘Local. I didn’t catch the name. There’s no one in the bar parlour, if that suits you.’

Alleyn took the call in the bar parlour.

He said: ‘Alleyn here. Hallo?’

Mr Pyke Period, unmistakable and agitated, answered. ‘Alleyn? Thank God! I’m so sorry to disturb you at this unconscionable hour. Do forgive me. The thing is there’s something I feel I ought to tell –’

The voice stopped. Alleyn heard a bump, followed by a soft, heavier noise and then by silence. He waited for a moment or two. There was a faint definite click and, again silence. He rang and got the engaged signal. He hung up and turned to find Fox at his side.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

When they were clear of the pub he broke into a run with Fox, heavy and capable, on his heels.

‘Period,’ Alleyn said, ‘and it looks damn’ fishy. Stopped dead in full cry. Characteristic noises.’