‘So were several other people, I suspect,’ said William, dismissively.

‘You’re sounding like my headmaster,’ said James, ‘who, when I finally asked him what decision he’d made simply said, “There was absolutely no solid evidence to back up your accusations, Buchanan.”’

‘And he’s right,’ said William wryly, ‘though I’ll be fascinated to know where your friend ends up.’

‘In prison along with your friend probably,’ said James.

‘While you’ve learnt the importance of gathering irrefutable evidence before you even consider presenting your case. A lesson that will stand you in good stead if you still want to be the Director of the FBI rather than chairman of the Pilgrim Line.’

‘My father’s now chairman of the company,’ said James, who paused before adding, ‘but he’s not my grandfather.’

After William had put the phone down, he thought about that sentence for some time.

• • •

Ross was already seated in his place, head buried in the New York Times, when Mr and Mrs Pugh entered the dining room and were shown to their usual table by an attentive maître d’. Pugh was still spluttering angrily to his wife about what had taken place at the bank that morning while she appeared to listen sympathetically. Ross couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t mention the fact that his credit card had been rejected when he tried to buy two boxes of Montecristo cigars.

Pugh tried once again to persuade her that they should open a joint bank account, but Ross needed to catch only the occasional word drifting his way from the next table to realize that she still wasn’t convinced. When he told her he would be returning to the bank in the morning to close his account so the same bank could take care of both of their affairs in future, she nodded, but didn’t comment.

Ross had already decided he wouldn’t be following Pugh to the bank in the morning, but would remain at the hotel in the hope of detaining his wife for a few minutes in order to, in the commander’s words, enlighten her.

The conversation at the next table turned to a proposed visit to the theatre the following evening. Pugh confirmed that the hotel had managed to get them front-row seats in the dress circle for a performance of Les Misérables. Mrs Pugh seemed delighted by the news, and although Ross could catch only the occasional word coming his way, the laughter and clinking of glasses suggested that the atmosphere between the newlyweds had changed. After they had given the waiter their orders, Pugh leant across the table and said something in a stage whisper that took Ross by surprise.

‘Your wig has gone a bit skew-whiff, my love.’

Mrs Pugh rose slowly from her place and said, ‘I’ll only be a few moments, my darling,’ and left without another word.

Ross readjusted the mirror in his cigarette case, and watched as Pugh took a cigar holder out of an inside pocket, which struck Ross as strange, as the Pughs hadn’t yet been served with their main course.