Lissa put her head on one side and looked at him, half-smiling, wholly beautiful.

“It might be a good idea at that What are you going to do now?”

“Talk to the policemen who were on duty here last night.”

“May I come?”

“But wouldn’t you be more good here?”

“Carl can handle David — they’re old friends. Carl can calm him down when he’s raging with everyone else. Others from the Embassy will soon be here, too. Did you find out anything?” She was getting into the car.

“Whoever broke in almost certainly picked the lock of the back door,” said Roger, taking the wheel “So your orders are to keep as close to me as you can.”

“I like the idea, tool You’re my first English detective, and it’s quite an experience. There can’t be many more like you.”

They didn’t say much while Roger drove to the police station in Ealing. A uniformed constable was on duty outside, recognized Roger and came forward to open the door. He said good morning, and then saw Lissa Meredith; he looked quite startled.

It was hot in the sun, but cool inside the station, where a heavily-built and slow-speaking Superintendent talked for only a few minutes. They were soon in a small, barely-furnished room, where a middle-aged constable, helmet in hand, got up from an uncomfortable wooden chair. He had a large, florid face, a heavy greying moustache, greying hair and big, blue eyes, questioning eyes which suggested that he looked on the world during his nightly patrol in a state of perpetual wonderment touched with cynicism.

“This is Constable Maidment,” the Superintendent said. “You don’t mind if I leave you, West? Mrs Meredith.” He went out, and the door closed on him.

“Morning, Maidment.” Roger was brisk. “Sorry to drag you out of bed.” Maidment had gone off duty at half past seven. “This is Mrs Meredith, representing the American Embassy.” Maidment showed commendable self-control, his gaze only flickered over Lissa, then concentrated on Roger. Did you notice anything unusual in Wavertree Road during the night?”