‘That’s fine, old man. Be kind to her. She’s worth it. I’m glad.’ He gave the impression of having arranged everything to everybody’s satisfaction. ‘And you can help to keep her mouth shut. Not that she knows anything that matters.’

‘I’d like to knock you through the window.’

‘But you won’t, old man. Our quarrels never last long. You remember that fearful one in the Monaco, when we swore we were through. I’d trust you anywhere, Rollo. Kurtz tried to persuade me not to come, but I know you. Then he tried to persuade me to, well, arrange an accident. He told me it would be quite easy in this car.’

‘Except that I’m the stronger man.’

‘But I’ve got the gun. You don’t think a bullet wound would show when you hit that ground?’ Again the car began to move, sailing slowly down, until the flies were midgets, were recognizable human beings. ‘What fools we are, Rollo, talking like this, as if I’d do that to you – or you to me.’ He turned his back and leaned his face against the glass. One thrust.… ‘How much do you earn a year with your Westerns, old man?’

‘A thousand.’

‘Taxed. I earn thirty thousand free. It’s the fashion. In these days, old man, nobody thinks in terms of human beings. Governments don’t, so why should we? They talk of the people and the proletariat, and I talk of the mugs. It’s the same thing. They have their five-year plans and so have I.’

‘You used to be a Catholic.’

‘Oh, I still believe, old man. In God and mercy and all that. I’m not hurting anybody’s soul by what I do. The dead are happier dead. They don’t miss much here, poor devils,’ he added with that odd touch of genuine pity, as the car reached the platform and the faces of the doomed-to-be-victims, the tired pleasure-hoping Sunday faces, peered in at them. ‘I could cut you in, you know. It would be useful. I have no one left in the Inner City.’

‘Except Cooler? And Winkler?’

‘You really mustn’t turn policeman, old man.’ They passed out of the car and he put his hand again on Martins’ elbow. ‘That was a joke: I know you won’t. Have you heard anything of old Bracer recently?’

‘I had a card at Christmas.’

‘Those were the days, old man. Those were the days. I’ve got to leave you here. We’ll see each other sometime. If you are in a jam, you can always get me at Kurtz’s.’ He moved away and, turning, waved the hand he had had the tact not to offer: it was like the whole past moving off under a cloud. Martins suddenly called after him, ‘Don’t trust me, Harry,’ but there was too great a distance now between them for the words to carry.

Chapter 15