“I am very sorry, sir,” he said. “Very sorry.”

Gunn growled, “Very well. I will overlook your intervention. As for the witness’s evidence, I do not see its relevance to the issue of a remand.” He glowered at Rachel Warrender, then went on in a clipped voice, “The accused is remanded for eight days on two sureties other than himself of five hundred pounds each. Will you make any arrangements you think necessary below the court,” he added to Rachel Warrender. “Failing the two sureties then of course the accused must remain in custody.” He rapped the bench with his gavel. “Next case, please.”

Almost at once, the two policemen by the dock helped Rapelli out. Perhaps the most remarkable thing was that the prisoner obviously needed physical support, being so very near collapse. Rachel Warrender hurried after him, while the newspapermen crowded round Maisie. Once she was outside the door of the courtroom, cameras began to click . . .

•     •     •

There in the Globe was a front-page picture of Maisie Dunster and, in the background and coming out of the courtroom, was Roger West. Among the people who saw the picture and read the story was Commander Coppell, chief executive of the Criminal Investigation Department of New Scotland Yard, as he sat back in his car after a very late luncheon at the Guildhall. Coppell, a heavy, rather sultry-looking man with smooth, shiny black hair, sat up, read the story in detail, then glowered out of the window at the traffic in the Strand. It was nearly four o’clock before he reached his office. A rather prim and over-zealous secretary was at the door as he opened it.

“The assistant commissioner would like you to call him, sir.”

“Get him,” growled Coppell. He went to his desk and sat down, opened the Globe out before him and reread the article. Almost at once his telephone bell rang.

“The assistant commissioner,” announced his secretary.