Chapter 7
AFTERNOON WITH MUSICT
HE man who had introduced himself as Jeremy Chad-Horder, and had disclaimed his wartime rank of Major as out of date, was still chattering amiably.
“As the nineteen fifty-seven car said, between you and me dearie, the trouble is I can’t tell my boot from my bonnet,” he remarked cheerfully as he and Richard paused outside the huge plate-glass window of the Piccadilly motor salesroom. “I find that’s the most important thing to remember about modern cars. If they appear to be shrinking it’s all right, they’re going away. I perceive it is closing time. Where shall we stagger next to top up the alcoholic content? What about the Midget Club in Minton Mews?”
“Good idea.” Richard noticed with relief that he had kept all trace of doggedness out of his tone. They
