Last night’s piece of business differed from its predecessor in several respects. For one thing, my client was a female. I didn’t select her because I like women, or because I hate them. I can take them or leave them, as a matter of fact. I chose her because the last one was a male, that’s all. And I didn’t pick her up by Camden tube, because that’s another pattern. I rode down to Piccadilly Circus and strolled round Soho, and I spotted her coming out of the Regent Palace. Manky, she was – you could see the grime on her neck from across the road – and there she was, stepping out of the hotel like a bleeding duchess or something. She’d sneaked in to use the toilet of course, but how she’d got past security I don’t know. Anyway, I let her get a little way down the road before tapping her on the shoulder.

‘Excuse me.’ She spun round.

‘Y-yes?’

‘Hotel Security,’ I snapped. ‘Regent Palace.’ Well.

I looked the part in my suit and trenchcoat. ‘You were in the hotel just now, weren’t you?’

She nodded. There was a look in her eyes like a hunted animal. ‘Yes. I went to the toilet. Why?’

‘There’s been a series of thefts. I’m afraid I must ask you to return with me to the hotel.’

‘Thefts?’ She looked desperate. ‘I don’t know anything about thefts. I told you – I needed the toilet. I was only there for a minute.’ Poor cow. Looking as she did, she must have stuck out like a sore thumb in there. She wouldn’t have lasted long enough to commit theft.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘But you must come with me and answer some questions. It won’t take long.’

‘Oh, God!’ She bit her lip. ‘Look – I’m in enough trouble as it is. I’m homeless, I have no job and no money. I’ve nothing on me. Can’t you just search me or something and let me go?’

She was close to tears, as they say in the bodicerippers. I judged it was time to pull my master stroke. I eyed her up and down, speculatively. ‘Hmm. Wouldn’t mind searching you, at that,’ I purred. ‘Homeless, you say?’

She nodded. I could see the dawn of hope in her eyes.

‘Nasty night too. How’d you fancy spending it in a cosy flat?’ I was brilliant. ‘Nice warm bed?’

‘What d’you mean?’ She knew what I meant. I smiled and she said, ‘You mean you want me to —?’

I shrugged. ‘It was just a thought, petal. You get off the hook as a suspect and I get —’ I smiled again.