“What is it? What is it?” Farriman the magistrates’ clerk asked Leeminster.

“The police ask for a remand in custody,” said Leeminster.

Of course they did on such a charge, thought Gunn, even more puzzled. Leeminster, obviously prompted by West, had repeated that request quickly.

The girl was passing the public benches and approaching those where the police and the solicitors and officials sat. She was very striking-looking, her slender figure making her appear taller than in fact she was, and wore an olive green suede suit and tightly fitting hat, which practically covered her short, chestnut-brown hair. She glanced coldly at West, and Gunn felt sure the two had met before. He was mildly amused, for West had the reputation of being a ladies’ man.

The girl came straight up to the bench. The prisoner seemed to shape his lips to speak and his grip on the rail became very tight. West moved back in his seat—amused? wondered Gunn; or resigned?

Farriman, who had also been distracted, had taken his time writing down the police request. Now, pretending not to notice the girl, he said, “The police request a remand in custody, sir. The usual period is eight days.” Farriman must have irritated a dozen magistrates by that piece of gratuitous information.

“I would be grateful for a hearing now, your honour,” the girl said clearly.

Gunn realised that she was nervous. The formal words, the over-precise enunciation, the huskiness of her voice, all told him that. But at close quarters she was astonishing-looking, with a superb, near-olive coloured complexion, beautiful brown eyes, a short, narrow-tipped nose, bow-shaped lips and a pointed chin. Her face was unusually narrow, which somehow made her looks more striking.

“What qualification have you to address the court?” demanded Farriman. He would never learn to allow the man on the bench to give a lead as to his own attitude.

“I am a solicitor,” she stated, her voice still husky, “and I would like to represent the accused.”