‘Did you wake again?’

‘That’s what’s so appalling to think of. I did. At one o’clock when he took Pixie out. She made the usual disturbance, barking and whining. I heard it. I’m afraid I cursed it. Then it stopped.’

‘And did you go to sleep again?’

‘Yes. Yes, I did. Yes.’

‘Were you disturbed again?’

Mr Period opened his mouth and remained agape for some seconds and then said, ‘No.’

‘Sure?’

‘Nobody disturbed me,’ Mr Period said and looked perfectly wretched.

Alleyn took him back through the day. It was with reluctance that he was brought to admit that Mr Cartell had entertained his sister and two acquaintances to luncheon. As an afterthought he remarked that Lady Bantling and her son, Andrew Bantling, had been there for drinks.

‘Who,’ Alleyn asked, ‘were the acquaintances?’ and was told, sketchily, about Mary Ralston, Miss Cartell’s ward, and her friend, Leonard Leiss. At the Yard, Alleyn was often heard to lament the inadequacy of his memory, an affectation which was tolerantly indulged by his colleagues. His memory was in fact like any other senior detective-officer’s, very highly trained, and in this instance it at once recalled the paragraph in the Police Gazette of some months ago in which the name and portrait-parlé of Leonard Leiss had appeared together with an account of his activities which were varied and dubious. He had started life in Bermondsey, shown some promise, achieved grammar-school status and come under the protection of a benevolent spinster whom he subsequently robbed and deserted. This episode was followed by an association with a flick-knife gang and an interval of luxury spent with a lady of greater wealth than discretion, and employment as a chauffeur with forged references. There had been two convictions. ‘Passes himself off,’ the Police Gazette had concluded ‘as a person of superior social status.’

‘Is Mr Leiss,’ Alleyn asked, ‘a young man of about twenty-seven? Dark, of pale complexion, rather too-smartly dressed and wearing a green ring on the signet finger?’

‘Oh, dear!’ Mr Period said helplessly. ‘I suppose Raikes has told you. Yes. Alas, he is!’

After that it was not hard to induce a general lament upon the regrettability of Leonard. Although Sergeant Raikes had in fact not yet reported the affair of the Scorpion sports-car, Mr Period either took it for granted that he had done so or recognized the inevitability of coming round to it before long. He said enough for Alleyn to get a fair idea of what had happened. Leonard, Mr Period concluded, was a really rather dreadful young person whom it would be the greatest mistake to encourage.

‘When I tell you, my dear fellow, that he leaned back in his chair at luncheon and positively whistled? Sang even! I promise! And the girl joined in! A terrible fellow! Poor Connie should have sent him packing at the first glance.’

‘Mr Cartell thought so too, I dare say?’

‘Oh, yes!’ said Mr Period, waving it away. ‘Yes, indeed. Oh, rather!’