‘The only other possibility,’ he went on, ‘oh, thanks, I shouldn’t really, my wife will give me hell if she smells it on me breath; the only other possibility is some person or persons unknown who in the Spring and early Summer months persists in stealing ladies’ knickers from washing lines. But this doesn’t sound like a desperate bloke who climbs in windows and takes on strong young ladles, does it? It sounds more like someone addicted to what we call the Solitary Vice. What’s more, he always pinches these great big old bloomers, eh? what we used to call bumbags, not the sort of pretty frilly things your lady will likely wear.’

He lapsed into a thoughtful silence, his eyes hooded.

‘Get on, man,’ barked George.

‘So we reckon ’e’s not likely from our Parish but where is ’e from then? Trinity’s the nearest next Parish and they ’aven’t anyone there to compare with us.’

There was a pardonable pride in his voice.

‘They got two or three poofs like we all ’ave and a couple of little tarts on the game – Dirty Gertie and Cutprice Alice and them – but they stick to St Helier, where the money is, eh? Oh, and there’s a geezer who rings up ladies and goes on about what he fancies doing to them but we all know who ’e is and ’e’s a well-liked chap and does no harm, ’e’s terrified of ’is wife. And that’s it.’

‘What about St John’s?’ said George, levelly.

‘Don’t reelly know. Lot of savages there, but nothing like this that I’ve heard of. Old La Pouquelaye, of course, but ’e’s just disgusting. Calves, ’e does it with.’

We sat silently; dazed at this revelation of how the other half lives. I felt that life had passed me by.

‘Have you talked to the Paid Police?’ asked George.

‘Of course, sir. They said they were always glad to hear about our country goings-on but they didn’t see how they could help. Unless me and my Vingteniers could give them something to work on.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, footprints first. Any good ones, they said they’d come and take casts of.’

‘No luck, I’m afraid. I’ve already looked. I sort of landed heavily when pursuing the beggar and must have wiped out his traces under the window. After that he seems to have kept to the gravel. No sign at all.’

‘You sure, sir?’

‘I helped to form the Reconnaissance Corps in 1942.’

‘Ah. I was helping to form the Jersey Resistance just about then meself.’

They gave each other keen, soldierly looks, such as strong men exchange in the works of R. Kipling.

‘Then they said about fingerprints and other clues.’

‘Bad luck there, too. My wife’s maid did the room thoroughly before we were up. Officious bitch. Usually can’t get her to empty in ashtray.’

‘That’s unfortunate, eh?’