Spying a bell inset on the mahogany counter, Spence pressed it. When nothing happened, he pressed it again. A minute or so later a door in the far wall was opened and a resplendent person in uniform appeared. His appearance was that of a foreign General or possibly Field Marshal, but his speech was of London and uneducated London at that.

"Yes, sir?"

"Mrs Gordon Cloade."

"Third floor, sir. Shall I ring through first?"

"She's here, is she?" said Spence. "I had an idea she might be in the country."

"No, sir, she's been here since Saturday last."

"And Mr David Hunter?"

"Mr Hunter's been here, too."

"He's not been away?"

"No, sir."

"Was he here last night?"

"Now then," said the Field Marshal, suddenly becoming aggressive.

"What's all this about? Want to know every one's life history?"

Silently Spence displayed his warrant card. The Field Marshal was immediately deflated and became cooperative.

"Sorry, I'm sure," he said. "Couldn't tell, could I?"

"Now then, was Mr Hunter here last night?"

"Yes, sir, he was. At least to the best of my belief he was. That is, he didn't say he was going away."

"Would you know if he was away?"

"Well, generally speaking, no. I don't suppose I should. Gentlemen and ladies usually say if they're not going to be here. Leave word about letters or what they want said if any one rings up."

"Do telephone calls go through this office?"

"No, most of the flats have their own lines. One or two prefer not to have a telephone and then we send up word on the house phone and the people come down and speak from the box in the hall."

"But Mrs Cloade's flat has its own phone?"

"Yes, sir."

"And as far as you know they were both here last night?"

"That's right."

"What about meals?"

"There's a restaurant, but Mrs Cloade and Mr Hunter don't very often use it. They usually go out to dinner."

"Breakfast?"

"That's served in the flats."

"Can you find out if breakfast was served this morning to them?"

"Yes, sir. I can find out from room service."

Spence nodded. "I'm going up now. Let me know about that when I come down."

"Very good, sir."

Spence entered the lift and pressed the button for the third floor. There were only two flats on each landing. Spence pushed the bell of No. 9.

David Hunter opened it. He did not know the Superintendent by sight and he spoke brusquely.

"Well, what is it?"

"Mr Hunter?"

"Yes."

"Superintendent Spence of the Oatshire County Police. Can I have a word with you?"

"I apologise, Superintendent." He grinned. "I thought you were a tout. Come in."

He led the way into a modern and charming room. Rosaleen Cloade was standing by the window and turned at their entrance.

"Superintendent Spence, Rosaleen," said Hunter. "Sit down, Superintendent. Have a drink?"

"No, thank you, Mr Hunter."