Kenneth now undisguisedly inspected him. ‘You look fabulous, of course,’ he said. ‘You know: way up there. But—’ He drew a rectangle with his forefinger in the air. ‘Let’s face it. Square, sweetheart. Square.’

‘Sorry about that,’ Alleyn said. ‘I was depending on Mr Mailer to make the change.’

‘Don’t let that trouble you. Toni’s terrific.’

‘Toni?’

‘Where we’re going. Toni’s Pad. It’s the greatest. Groovy. You know? Grass, hard stuff, the lot. Mind you, he plays it cool. There’ll be a freak-out.’

‘A—?’

‘A happening. Psychedelic.’

‘A floorshow?’

‘If you like—but way-out. Ever so trendy. Some people just go for giggles and come away. But if it sends you, which is what it’s for, you move on to the buzz.’

‘Obviously you’ve been there before?’

‘Not to deceive you, I have. Seb took us.’

‘Us?’

‘Auntie came too. She’s all for experience. She’s fabulous—honestly. I mean it.’

With considerable effort Alleyn said casually, ‘Did Seb—turn you on?’

‘That’s right. In Perugia. I’m thinking,’ Kenneth said, ‘of making the move.’

‘To—?’

‘The big leap. Pothead to main-liner. Well, as a matter of fact I’ve had a taste. You know. Mind you, I’m not hooked. Just the odd pop. Only a fun thing.’

Alleyn looked at a face that not so long ago might have been attractive. Policemen are as wary of reading character into other people’s faces as they are of betraying their thoughts in their own, but it occurred to him that if Kenneth was a less repellent colour and if he would shut his mouth instead of letting it droop open in a flaccid smirk he wouldn’t be a bad-looking specimen. He might, even at this stage, be less dissolute than his general behaviour suggested. And whatever has happened or is about to happen to Mr Sebastian Mailer, Alleyn thought, it cannot be one millionth fraction of what he most richly deserves.

Kenneth broke the silence that had fallen between them.

‘I say,’ he said, ‘it’s idiotic of course but wouldn’t it be a yell if after being on about Seb and Toni’s Pad and all that bit, you were The Man?’

‘The Man?’

‘Yes. You know. A plain-clothes fuzz.’

‘Do I look like it?’

‘Nobody less. You look gorgeous. That might be your cunning, though, mightn’t it? Still you couldn’t have me busted when we’re not on British soil. Or could you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Alleyn said. ‘Ask a policeman.’

Kenneth gave an emaciated little laugh. ‘Honestly, you kill me,’ he said, and after another pause: ‘If it’s not going too far, what do you do?’

‘What do you think?’

‘I don’t know. Something frightfully high-powered and discreet. Like diplomacy. Or has that gone out with the Lord Chamberlain?’

‘Has the Lord Chamberlain gone out?’