‘So,’ said Kerridge heavily, ‘my inspector has a note of your evidence. I gather you would be prepared to stand up in court, kiss the Bible, and say the same thing?’

‘Court! It’ll never come to court.’

‘Why not? It’s murder and I intend to find the murderer.’

Tristram kneaded the handkerchief between his fingers and scowled at the floor. Then his face cleared. ‘Ah, but only if Alfred is the murderer, and that is ridiculous.’

‘That will be all for now,’ said Kerridge. ‘If you would be so good as to call at Scotland Yard tomorrow, we will take your statement, type it up, and you may sign it’

Tristram looked to right and left as if seeking a way out. ‘Can’t,’ he said finally. ‘Going to the country tomorrow.’

‘Then I suggest you come with us now.’

‘No, I won’t,’ said Tristram. ‘I must warn you that I have friends at the Palace.’

‘Mr Baker-Willis, unless you are prepared to make an official statement, I must assume you are lying.’

Tristram stared at him for a long moment. Then he shrugged. ‘May as well get it over with. I’ll come now.’

Later that evening, armed with a letter of introduction from an old army friend, Brigadier Bill Handy, Harry visited the late Freddy’s father. Colonel Hugh Pomfret read the letter carefully. Then he said, ‘Of course I want to find out who murdered my son. But what can you do that the police cannot?’

‘I have more freedom to go about in society than the police and to find out what enemies your son had.’

‘Very well. Go ahead.’ Then, with a slight edge of contempt in his voice. ‘I suppose you want paid for your services.’

‘No, because I came to you and not the other way round.’

‘Very good of you,’ said the colonel gruffly.

‘Did your son keep any letters or correspondence with you?’

‘No, the only time he came here was to ask for money, and when he got it or didn’t get it, he would leave. He came to the family place in the country at Christmas. Apart from that, we barely saw him.

‘My wife is distraught. Like all mothers, she remembers him as a small boy now, but truth to tell, our son had become a nasty, jeering sort of person whenever we saw him. He didn’t like the fact that I haven’t a title. He hung around the fringes of the Kensington Palace set. He wanted me to buy him a title. That was in January. When I told him I had not that kind of money and if I had I would not spend it on such rubbish, he stormed out.’

So that’s what he wanted the money for, thought Harry. Who would have thought that such a lightweight young man could be so ferociously ambitious?