THE LIFT DOORS opened and we crossed a deserted landing to Bobo’s flat. It smelled even more musty and unpleasant than last time with the rotting food items looking quite disgusting. Darcy recoiled at the state of the place. “Well, one thing is clear,” he said as he crossed the room to hastily draw the curtains. “She’d been living here and intended to come back shortly. She wouldn’t have left the place like this for more than an hour or so.” He looked around. “I wonder if she asked William to hail her a taxicab that evening. Or whether anyone came to call for her. We can ask on the way down.” He went through into the bedroom and pulled the heavy curtains across those floor-to-ceiling windows. “Oh, there’s my dressing gown,” he said, turning back again.

“You can’t take it,” I said hurriedly. “The police will know you’ve been here.”

“Quite right. I wonder whether I have left anything else here? No time for that now. Well, where’s this safe?”

I went over to the wall and removed the painting. Darcy examined the safe and grunted. “Very modern. I don’t think I’ve seen one just like this. So what would Bobo use as a combination? Her birthday? I know the date but not the year.” He tried several with no success. He tried other combinations, then shook his head. He put his ear to the safe and turned the dial slowly. Then he said, “Let’s think. She’s sneaky in some ways. Inventive. But lazy. Wait a minute.” He turned the dial left then right and to my amazement the safe swung open.

“How did you do that?” I asked.

He grinned. “Luck,” he said. “I retraced my steps to where we began and figured she might only have moved the dial once after she closed the safe. Lazy, you see.”

It was a small safe, stuffed quite full. I had expected maybe jewels but I was surprised to pull out mainly photographs and letters. Darcy whistled as he removed a large bundle of five-pound notes. “A little emergency cash,” he said. “And here is where the rest goes.” He held up what seemed to be a bankbook. “Swiss bank account. She plays the helpless female very well but she’s as sharp as they come.”

“Played,” I said. “She’s dead. She wasn’t sharp enough to spot danger coming.”

We both stood in silence for a moment. Then Darcy said, “So what about these photos and letters?”

I picked up one. “‘My darling Gerald, how I’ve pined for you. Are you staying away deliberately, you wicked boy? I’ve been at the Black Cat numerous times and you’ve never shown up.’” I looked up at Darcy.

“A love letter,” I said, then I read down to the signature. “It’s signed, ‘Your heartbroken Hugo.’