The policeman turned to her reassuringly. “Now don’t you worry, you’ll be all right now you’re with Mr Rollison.” Anxiously he added to Rollison: “You don’t intend to make a charge, do you, sir?”

“No,” Rollison answered.

“Very generous of you, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a lot to do downstairs.”

“What’s happening in the street?” asked Rollison.

“Everything’s quieter, but we had to arrest three of the young women, sir.”

“I see,” said Rollison, glumly. “Was anyone else hurt?”

“No, sir.”

“But don’t be surprised if some are,” interpolated Lucifer.

The policeman looked at him, appeared ready to ask questions, thought better of it and went towards the door. Rollison saw him out, returning to find Jolly sponging Mrs Abbott’s forehead, with Lucifer looking on sardonically. There was now time to study the woman. She was in her middle fifties, Rollison judged—her grey hair seemed to be naturally curly, and in a rather heavy, almost masculine way, she was good-looking. Her eyes were closed, as if she felt relaxed and soothed by Jolly’s ministrations.

Jolly drew back.

“A cup of coffee, madam?” he suggested, and without waiting for a reply he disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Rollison and Lucifer Stride stood looking at Mrs Abbott, who kept her eyes closed. After a few moments Stride moved to study the Trophy Wall. Suddenly Mrs Abbott opened her eyes and looked straight at Rollison. Not long before she had cried in rage: They killed my husband. And I’d like to kill you.”

Rollison smiled at her.

“Hallo,” he said. “Feeling better?”

She didn’t answer.

“You look better,” Rollison said. “Why did you throw that ammonia at me?”

Still she didn’t answer.

“Better still,” said Rollison, “who paid you to?”

In a flash, she cried: “No one paid me!”

Lucifer stood with his head tilted back, as if he were trying to see the bullet holes in the crown of the old top hat. The light from the window glinted on his hair, making it look like spun gold. Rollison moved away from the woman, who was staring at him as if in horror and alarm. Jolly came in, with a tray. Rollison did not repeat his questions but turned away.