‘That’s something which we shall have to bear in mind, of course.’

‘Yes, sir. I could almost swear — if we can once rule out the husband!’

‘At the same time… by the way, here’s Tally-ho Corner. I suppose you never read up the Rouse case, did you?’

It was as he had thought — Stephens was desperately unsure of himself. He welcomed the opportunity to switch the conversation elsewhere. The Rouse case, fortunately, was one that he had swotted up, and he talked about it readily as they made their way through Barnet and Hatfield.

‘If he’d kept out of the witness-box, sir — that was his undoing. They’d never have hanged him on the evidence alone.’

‘I imagine that the prosecution were banking on that. Knowing Rouse, they were pretty certain that he would take the stand.’

‘Do you think so, sir? Was it a legitimate gamble?’

At Newmarket, where they stopped for coffee, Stephens insisted on receiving and paying the bill. He was smoking a pipe which, Gently noticed, was a sandblast much like his own in pattern. It was nearly new, with an unscratched mouthpiece. He couldn’t remember whether he had seen Stephens smoking a pipe before or not.

‘Like to try some of mine?’

He pushed across his tin of navy-cut. Stephens accepted a couple of slices and maladroitly stuffed his pipe with them. From the awkward manner he had of holding his pipe while he was smoking, Gently deducted that this was the young detective’s first essay in the art…

By noon they were in the outskirts of the old provincial capital, familiar to Gently if not to his protege. It possessed a fine approach along a wide and tree-lined carriageway, on either side of which stood attractive houses in well-kept grounds.

‘Aren’t the Northshire people rather difficult to get on with? Someone was telling me in the canteen…’

Gently smiled at the keep of the Norman castle, now lifting distantly above the rooftops.