“Touché,” he said. “Well, in that case we’ll have to do something about it.” He gave her a wide, disarming grin. “And it wouldn’t hurt us to get a move on instead of asking damn silly questions, would it?”
It was an unusually definite promise from anyone as punctilious as the Superintendent so Mr. Campion led the talk into other channels and the meal ended happily. He was not astonished to receive a telephone call from Luke three or four days later.
“That twenty-year-old enquiry in the Turk Street area,” the Superintendent began, the microphone blurring and vibrating under the strain of his voice. “I haven’t discovered very much, but, as I thought, I recollected something fairly recent which might tie up and at last I’ve had a moment to study the file. You don’t read the Ebbfield Observe
