‘He was too fussed to take proper notice. He just fumed away about the car game. Your spies have been busy,’ she added. ‘Am I allowed to ask who told you? Wait a bit, though. It must have been Sergeant Raikes. What fun for him.’

‘Why was Cartell so set against the picture gallery idea?’

‘My dear, because he was what he was. Fuddy-duddy-plus. It’s a bore, because he’s Andy’s guardian.’

‘Any other trustees?’

‘Yes. P.P.’

‘What does he think?’

‘He thinks Andy might grow a beard and turn beat, which he doesn’t dig. Still, I can manage my P.P. Boo wouldn’t have minded.’

‘Boo?’

‘Bantling. My first. Andy’s papa. You knew Boo. Don’t be so stuffy.’

Alleyn, who did in fact remember this singularly ineffectual peer, made no reply.

‘And, I may add,’ Lady Bantling said, apparently as an afterthought, ‘Bimbo considered it a jolly good bet. And he’s got a flair for that sort of thing, Bimbo has. As a matter of fact Bimbo offered –’ She broke off and seemed to cock an ear. Alleyn had already heard steps in the hall. ‘Here, I do believe, he is!’ Desirée exclaimed and called out loudly: ‘Bimbo!’

‘Hallo!’ said a distant voice, rather crossly.

‘Come in here, darling.’

The door opened and Bimbo Dodds came in. Alleyn now remembered where he had seen him.

IV

The recognition, Alleyn felt sure, was mutual though Bimbo gave no sign of this. They had last met on the occasion of a singularly disreputable turn-up in a small but esoteric night-club. There had been a stabbing, subsequent revelations involving a person of consequence and a general damping-down process ending in a scantily publicized conviction. Benedict Arthur Dodds, Alleyn recollected, had been one of a group of fashionable gentlemen who had an undercover financial interest in the club which had come to an abrupt and discreditable end and an almost immediate reincarnation under another name. Bimbo had appeared briefly in court, been stared at coldly by the magistrate, and was lucky to escape the headlines. At the time, Alleyn recollected, Bimbo was stated to be a declared bankrupt. It was before his marriage to Desirée.

She introduced them. Bimbo, who had the slightly mottled complexion of a man who has slept heavily in the afternoon, nodded warily and glanced at the tray. His right hand was neatly bandaged and he did not offer it to Alleyn.

‘The Super and I, darling,’ Desirée said, ‘are boy-and-girl chums. He was starving and I’ve given him a snack. He’s jolly famous nowadays, so isn’t it nice to have him grilling us?’

‘Oh, really?’ said Bimbo. ‘Ha-ha. Yes.’

‘You must answer all his questions very carefully because it seems as if Hal was murdered. Imagine!’

Interpreting this speech to be in the nature of a general warning, Alleyn said: ‘I wonder if I may have a word with you, Mr Dodds.’ And to Desirée: ‘Thank you so much for my delicious luncheon-without-prejudice.’