“Do you think he has any particular reason?” asked Gideon.

“He gave me no intimation that he had, and I imagine there is some kind of political motivation. He may simply want to be absolutely sure there is no political demonstration  —  at least,” Scott-Marie gave his dry smile: “none that gets out of control — during his last few months in office.”

“We haven’t done too badly by him yet.” Gideon smiled just as drily.

“We’ve done very well, which, of course, is no reason why we shouldn’t try to do even better.” Scott-Marie took out his handkerchief, shook it free of its folds, and dabbed his forehead. “You’ve heard no rumours of trouble at Lords?”

Gideon shook his head.

“No. But I’ll send out an instruction for all divisions to report any talk there may be. And I’ll brief the A.B. Division to take special precautions. Just one thing, sir,” he added, thoughtfully.

“What’s that?”

“If the Home Secretary has been given a tip, we should be told what it’s about.”

‘I’ll try to make sure that we are,” promised Scott-Marie. “Are you taking special precautions about any of the other events?”

“So far, routine looks likely to be enough. We’ve reasonable time with over three weeks before the Derby, nearly a week to the game with South Africa. Wimbledon’s almost on us, but the real crowds don’t start for a few days. I’ll watch the situation very closely, sir.”

“I’m sure you will.” Scott-Marie gave another dab at his forehead and one at his neck. “I gather that things in general are fairly quiet?”

“The usual summer calm,” Gideon told him. “It always makes me a bit uneasy. There’s a tendency for everyone to slacken off; especially when we have a warm spell, like this.”

“Well, this is the fifth day. I suppose it will break before the weekend.” Shrugging resignedly, the Commissioner stood up and Gideon, feeling much cooler, moved quickly to help him into his jacket. “Thanks. If I have any further word from the Home Office, I’ll tell you. Let me know at once if you have any word from anyone.”