An office party is not, as is sometimes supposed, the Managing Director’s chance to kiss the tea-girl. It is the tea-girl’s chance to kiss the Managing Director.

Roundabout, Katharine Whitehorn, 1928–

When the man in black reappeared in the shop, both Erica and Brian were taken by surprise. Erica had really not expected to see him again. The fact that he would dare to come back had never seemed likely, but here he was, large as life, with the same anorak and the same holdall under his arm.

There were several customers in the shop this time, browsing the shelves. Erica caught Brian’s eye and motioned him to join her in the stockroom. The man in black, true to form, was scrutinizing a shelf on Polar exploration, waiting for the shop to empty.

‘It is him, isn’t it?’ asked Erica.

Brian, breaking the habit of a lifetime, decided to forgo his usual shrug and nodded.

‘Right. You hold the fort. I’ll call the police on my mobile from the yard and I’ll be back in the shop as soon as I can. Keep him talking.’

Erica ignored the look of horror on the youth’s face at the prospect of having to make conversation with anybody, let alone a criminal, and sent Brian back into the shop to face the enemy.

A few minutes later she slipped into the shop and locked the back door.

It seemed an age before the three customers departed, one without buying anything, and the other two with small travel guides.

The man approached the counter.

‘I was wondering if you had had any further thoughts on my suggestion?’ he asked. ‘I think I could offer you a special rate.’

Erica had no time to reply. The bell on the door of the shop pinged and she glanced across to see two sturdy policeman blocking out the light.

‘So what happened?’ There was an edge in Tiger’s voice.

Erica could tell he was not happy, and knew that the information she was about to give would not improve things. ‘They had to let him go.’

‘What?!’

Erica held the telephone away from her ear for a moment, then continued, ‘They said they were sorry but that they had no reason to hold him. There was no way they could connect him with the broken windows, and he had nothing else on him that gave them any cause to suspect that he had anything to do with it.’

‘But what about the demand for money?’

‘They said he denied that he had asked for anything. Then they asked me if he had actually threatened me and I had to admit that he hadn’t. I think as far as they were concerned he might just as well have been selling The Big Issue. They were very sympathetic but said there was nothing else they could do until they had some sort of evidence.’

‘Did they take his fingerprints?’