'Dr Haggard? I didn't realize we were acquainted.'

'Nor I. Did you enjoy the show?'

'In parts.'

'Parts are what it's all about,' murmured Haggard.

'Tell me, are you here in any kind of official capacity?'

'Why do you ask?' said Pascoe.

'Simply to help me decide where to offer you a drink. Our members usually foregather in what used to be the staff room to discuss the evening's entertainment.'

'I think I'd rather talk in private,' said Pascoe.

'So it is official.'

'In part,' said Pascoe, conscious that this was indeed only a very small part of the truth. Shorter's story had interested him, Dalziel's lack of interest the previous day had piqued him, Ellie was representing her union at a meeting that night, television was lousy on Thursdays, and Sergeant Wield had been very happy to supply him with a membership card.

'Then let us drink in my quarters.'

They went out of the viewing room, which Pascoe guessed had once been two rooms joined together to make a small school assembly hall, and climbed the stairs. Sounds of conversation and glasses as from a saloon bar followed them upstairs from one of the ground-floor rooms. The Wilkinson Square vigilantes had made great play of drunkards falling noisily out of the Club late at night and then falling noisily into their cars, which were parked in a most inconsiderate manner all round the Square. Wield had found no evidence to support these assertions.

Haggard did not pause on the first-floor landing but proceeded up the now somewhat narrower staircase. Observing Pascoe hesitate, he explained, 'Mainly classrooms here. Used for storage now. I suppose I could domesticate them again but I've got so comfortably settled aloft that it doesn't seem worth it. Do come in. Have a seat while I pour you something. Scotch all right?'