‘I mind very much, but the answer is no. The whole thing was cleared up a year ago.’

‘That would be at the time of your marriage, I think?’

Bimbo turned scarlet and said not a word.

‘Still,’ Alleyn went on after a slight pause, ‘I suppose the Grantham Gallery plan will go forward now, don’t you?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘No reason why it shouldn’t, one imagines, unless Mr Period, who’s a trustee, objects.’

‘In any case it doesn’t arise.’

‘No?’

‘I mean it’s got nothing to do with this ghastly business.’

‘Oh, I see. Well, now,’ Alleyn said briskly. ‘I fancy that’s about all. Except that I ought to ask you if there’s anything in the wide world you can think of that could be of help to us.’

‘Having no idea of the circumstances I can hardly be expected to oblige,’ Bimbo said with a short laugh.

‘Mr Cartell’s body was found in the open drain outside Mr Period’s house. He had been murdered. That,’ Alleyn lied, ‘is about all anyone knows.’

‘How had he been murdered?’

‘Hit on the head, it appears, and smothered.’

‘Poor old devil,’ said Bimbo. He stared absently at his cigarette. ‘Look!’ he said. ‘Nobody likes to talk wildly about a thing like this. I mean it just won’t do to put a wrong construction on what may be a perfectly insignificant detail, will it?’

‘It’s our job to forget insignificant details.’

‘Yes, I know. Of course. All the same –’

‘Mr Dodds, I really think I can promise you I won’t go galloping down a false trail with blinkers over my eyes.’

Bimbo smiled. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Fair enough. No doubt I’m behaving like the original Silly Suspect or something. It’s just that, when it comes to the point, one doesn’t exactly fancy trotting out something that may turn out to be – well –’

‘Incriminating?’

‘Well, exactly. Mind you, in principle, I’m for weighing in with the police. We belly-ache about them freely enough but we expect them to protect us. Of course everybody doesn’t see it like that.’

‘Not everybody.’

‘No. And anyway with all the rot-gut that the long-haired gentry talk about understanding the thugs, it’s up to the other people to show the flag.’

Disregarding a certain nausea in the region of his midriff, Alleyn said: ‘Quite.’

Bimbo turned away to the window and seemed to be contemplating the landscape. Perhaps because of this, his voice had taken on a different perspective.

‘Personally,’ Alleyn heard him say, ‘I’m in favour of capital punishment.’

Alleyn, who was one of an extremely small minority among his brother-officers, said: ‘Ah, yes?’

‘Anyway, that’s nothing to do with the point at issue,’ Bimbo said, turning back into the room. ‘I don’t know why I launched out like this.’

‘We can forget it.’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘You were going to tell me –?’