She asked the question with something of the submissiveness of a little girl. In spite of himself the Superintendent was favourably impressed. There was a docility, a willingness about her which he had not expected.

"That would be very nice of you, Mrs Cloade," he said. "The sooner we can get certain facts definitely established the better. I haven't got a police car here, I'm afraid."

David crossed to the telephone.

"I'll ring up the Daimler Hire. It's beyond the legal limit - but I expect you can square that, Superintendent."

"I think that can be arranged, Mr Hunter." He got up. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs."

He went down in the lift and pushed open the office door once more.

The Field Marshal was awaiting him.

"Well?"

"Both beds slept in last night, sir. Baths and towels used. Breakfast was served to them in the flat at nine-thirty."

"And you don't know what time Mr Hunter came in yesterday evening?"

"I can't tell you anything further, I'm afraid, sir!"

Well, that was that, Spence thought.

He wondered if there was anything behind David's refusal to speak except pure childlike defiance. He must realise that a charge of murder was hovering over him. Surely he must see that the sooner he told his story the better. Never a good thing to antagonise the police. But antagonising the police, he thought ruefully, was just what David Hunter would enjoy doing.

They talked very little on the way down. When they arrived at the mortuary Rosaleen Cloade was very pale. Her hands were shaking. David looked concerned for her. He spoke to her as though she was a small child.

"It'll be only a minute or two, Rosaleen. It's nothing at all, nothing at all now. Don't get worked up. You go in with the Superintendent and I'll wait for you. And there's nothing at all to mind about. Peaceful he'll look and just as though he were asleep."

She gave him a little nod of the head and stretched out her hand. He gave it a little squeeze.

"Be a brave girl now, alanna."

As she followed the Superintendent she said in her soft voice: "You must think I'm a terrible coward. Superintendent. But when they've been all dead in the house - all dead but you - that awful night in London -"

He said gently: "I understand, Mrs Cloade. I know you went through a bad experience in the Blitz when your husband was killed. Really, it will be only a minute or two."

At a sign from Spence the sheet was turned back. Rosaleen Cloade stood looking down at the man who had called himself Enoch Arden. Spence, unobtrusively standing to one side, was actually watching her closely.

She looked at the dead man curiously and as though wondering - she gave no start, no sign of emotion or recognition, just looked long and wonderingly at him.

Then, very quietly, in an almost matter of fact way, she made the sign of the cross.