Bergarmi rang up to say the Questore had told him to report. They had pulled in Giovanni Vecchi but had not persuaded him to talk. Bergarmi thought Giovanni might be hiding Mailer and almost certainly knew where he was, but had no hard facts to support what seemed to be merely a hunch. They would continue to hold Vecchi. Alleyn again reflected upon the apparently wide divergences between Italian and British police procedure. He asked Bergarmi if he had made any inquiries as to Kenneth Dorne’s activities in Perugia. Bergarmi had done so and found that a complaint had been made to the police by a jeweller about a cigarette case but the man had been repaid and the charge withdrawn. There had been no further developments.

‘I thought as much,’ Alleyn said.

He then told Bergarmi of his interview with Sweet. ‘I’ve got a list of Ziegfeldt’s top agents from him,’ he said. ‘I think it’s genuine. He’s been playing the double-agent between Ziegfeldt and Mailer and now he’s got very cold feet.’

Bergarmi said he would have the Major watched. An arrest at this juncture would probably prove unfruitful but under obvious supervision he might crack and do something revealing: clearly Bergarmi now regarded the Major as his most fruitful source of information. He added that with the material Alleyn had obtained, no doubt his mission in Rome had been accomplished. There was no mistaking the satisfaction in Bergarmi’s voice. Alleyn said that you might put it like that, he supposed, and they rang off.

As he intended to dine in the hotel, he changed into a dinnerjacket. At half past seven Kenneth Dorne came to see him. His manner slithered about between resentment, shamefacedness and sheer funk.

Alleyn ran through Kenneth’s record as supplied by Fox and asked him if it was substantially correct. Kenneth said he supposed so. ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘you’ve made up your mind so there’s no point in saying it’s not.’

‘None whatever.’

‘Very well, then. What’s the object in my coming here?’