Her mind was on tidiness of appearance, not order of subject. Very possibly she cannot read at all! A thread of carpet in a shoe.” He opened his eyes very wide. “How did it get there? Who knows? And most absurd of all, half a glass of port wine. Mr. Pitt would have us believe this means that Mr. Fetters had no occasion to ring for the butler. All it really means is that Mr. Pitt himself is not accustomed to having servants-which we might reasonably have guessed, since he is a policeman.” He pronounced the last word with total scorn.

There was silence in the courtroom.

Gleave nodded.

“I propose to call several witnesses who are well acquainted with Mr. Pitt and will tell you what manner of man he is, so you may judge for yourselves what his evidence is worth.”

Pitt’s heart sank as he heard Albert Donaldson’s name and saw the familiar figure cross the open well of the court and mount the witness stand. Donaldson looked heavier and grayer than he had when he was Pitt’s superior fifteen years before, but the expression in his face was just as Pitt recalled, and he knew Donaldson’s contempt was still simmering just below the exterior.

The testimony went exactly as he expected.

“You are retired from the Metropolitan Police Force, Mr. Donaldson?” Gleave asked.

“I am.”

Gleave nodded slightly.

“When you were an inspector at the Bow Street station was there a Constable Thomas Pitt working there?”

“There was.” Donaldson’s expression already betrayed his feelings.

Gleave smiled. His shoulders relaxed.

“What sort of a man was he, Mr. Donaldson? I presume you had occasion to work with him often-in fact, he was answerable to you?”

“He wasn’t answerable to anybody, that one!” Donaldson retorted, darting a glance towards Pitt where he sat in the crowd. It had taken Donaldson only a moment to pick him out in the front rows. “Law to himself. Always thought he knew best, and wouldn’t be told by no one.”