“Best I could do, sir,” said Danizon, then for the first time saw Roger’s face. He broke off, his expression asking, “What have I done wrong?” Then he glanced round and saw who had held the door open for him.

Out of the blue, Roger had a thought that was almost inspired, and he said, “Fetch another cup for the commander, sergeant.”

“Er—yes sir!” Danizon could not get out of the room quickly enough, and he shot one agonised glance over his shoulder as the door closed on him.

Coppell gave a kind of grin.

“Training him for the canteen?” he asked.

“I missed lunch,” Roger replied, and wondered whether the incident would restore Coppell to a reasonable mood.

“Doing what?” asked Coppell, and then he snorted. “Looking for those other two who were in bed with Rapelli?”

That appealed to him; if he, Roger, went carefully they would be over the worst, although the conflict between them would probably never fade entirely.

Before he could answer, Coppell snorted again.

“Well, let’s hear more. You wouldn’t stick your neck out unless you had a reason, even if a bloody bad reason. The Home Office is on the warpath, so your explanation had better be good.”

Roger’s heart dropped.

“There’s been a lot of cannabis and some heroin pushed in and around Doons Way, which is a short street with some small clubs and a lot of noise,” he stated. “I thought that the man Rapelli was involved. I was afraid that if Rapelli was out on bail he himself might be attacked next.”

“You just thought,” breathed Coppell.

“I also knew that some of the clubs stage occasional sex orgies in the upper rooms and that this witness—Dunster —runs around with some pretty funny people. All-in all, I decided it was worth letting the witness and her counsel and the court know what I knew. And I gambled on Gunn letting it pass with an apology.”