George made that noise, usually rendered as ‘Pshaw’, which only those who have served in the Indian Army can make.

‘So George and I, while you were away, drew up a list, as best we could, of good-looking English women, in their thirties, wives of substantial English rentiers or professional men, and living within a mile of here. We believe that the total of probable targets comes to no more than seventeen and that we four (I’m including Jock) could set ambushes which would give us almost a twenty-five per cent chance, each night, of being in the right place.’

‘Yes, but how would you convince the rapist, supposing that he is watching the house, that he had a clear field?’

‘Easily,’ said George, the military man taking over from the backroom boffins, ‘so long as we have the cooperation of the, ah, householders.’ (One felt that he had almost said ‘of the civilian population’.) ‘Each of us enters a selected house at the sort of hour when most people are working: say, just before noon – lots of these Jersey workmen spend half the afternoon in pubs, better avoid afternoons. Early in the evening, the husband goes off ostentatiously in his car, loudly saying that he won’t be much later than midnight, while wife waves goodbye at door. Then whichever one of us is on guard continues to lie low in the house or, if there’s good cover outside commanding all entrances, makes his way to the cover. The wife in question potters about downstairs for a bit then goes upstairs, puts light on in bedroom, perhaps shows herself for a moment at bedroom window, then puts out main bedroom lights, leaving bedside one on, and creeps off to some other room; locks herself in. We lie in wait. Armed.’

‘That sounds perfect,’ I said cautiously. ‘Perfect. Except for a couple of things, if you’ll bear with me.’

Sam sighed boredly; George punted guardedly.

‘As follows,’ I went on. ‘First, just supposing my half-serious theory that it is an Englishman were right, how could one tell that one was not tipping him one’s hand and, indeed, guarding his very own homestead?’

‘Well, if one must take that seriously, we simply take care not to let any householder under guard on a given evening know which other houses are being guarded.’

‘Good,’ I said, ‘but, better still, let him not know that any other houses are under surveillance.’

‘Well, all right, that makes sense, come to think of it.’

‘Second,’ I went on remorselessly, ‘what about our wives while we are out boy-scouting? Johanna is a pretty hand with a pistol but even so, without Jock’s presence, she might be a bit vulnerable, and she’s a natural next target. Sonia may or may not be off the fellow’s list now but, after her horrid experience, she probably wouldn’t much care to be left alone.’