Coppell looked at him intently.

“Carry on.”

“Well, sir—” Roger paused again. “The whole thing’s too slick, too convenient for Rapelli, for my liking. The girl’s a thorough bad lot all right, and more than capable of perjuring herself, which was what I meant to show the court when I said what I did. But even though I myself gave it to her on a plate—” Roger smiled ruefully “—I’m just not happy about this alibi.”

Coppell frowned.

“What do you intend doing now?” he asked.

“Well, sir, I’d like to check on who else was supposed to be participating in the fun and games at Maisie Dun- ster’s apartment. I tried this afternoon, in fact, but no one was home. The apartment is in an old house converted into flats or flatlets, and all the tenants seem to work. They were out, anyway. Then I tried to get a line on Rachel Warrender’s recent activities, but drew a blank. Her father is the Member of Parliament and the firm of Warrender, Clansel and Warrender is a very old and reputable one. None of the partners was in and none of the clerks would talk about the girl. I also tried to get a line on Rapelli’s recent movements, and again drew a blank. He says he’s a translator for magazines and publishers of English into Italian and vice versa, but nothing much has turned up about him. I can’t yet prove he’s involved in drugs.” Roger gave a short, rueful grimace. “And when I started out this morning I thought we might really have a line on the drug business, while the case against Rapelli seemed cut and dried. It wasn’t until Rachel Warrender came to see me and threatened to produce her witnesses for Rapelli that things began to misfire.”

Coppell’s eyes rounded.

“She did what?”

“Only half an hour before Rapelli was due in the dock. I went over to the court as soon as I could and arrived just in time. I wanted to make sure Leeminster wasn’t on his own when she arrived. If there was going to be trouble, I wanted to be in the middle of it.”