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er . . . as per my instructions. Quite,’ Comstock said. He glanced down, once more, at the pieces of paper on his desk. ‘Did this man Duffy by any chance attempt to bribe you?’ he asked, without looking up.
    ‘Bribe me?’ Blackstone repeated.
    ‘Bribe you.’
    ‘Why should you ask that?’
    ‘Just idle curiosity,’ Comstock said, unconvincingly. ‘After all, it’s not every man who would turn down the chance of earning four thou . . .’
    The commissioner clamped his mouth tightly shut, but the damage had already been done.
    Duffy had been moved from one cell to another for one specific reason, Blackstone thought. And that reason had been that while there were no hidden microphones in his first cell, there undoubtedly were in his second.
    But why should the commissioner have even wanted to listen in on the conversation?
    Could it be because he had intended to skim off a portion of the bribe for himself?
    Possibly.
    But, thinking about it, it did seem highly unlikely that a police commissioner for New York City – even if he were corrupt – would wish to be become involved in such a thing. For Blackstone himself, four thousand dollars was a great deal of money, but for the commissioner it must seem like very petty graft indeed.
    And even if that were his intention, he would now know that though a bribe had been offered by Duffy, it had certainly not been accepted by Blackstone.
    While these thoughts had been running through Blackstone’s mind, Comstock had clearly been working out how to cover his gaffe.
    ‘You were planning to sail back to England as soon as possible, weren’t you?’ he asked, apparently having decided that his best course would be to pretend the gaffe had never happened.
    Were planning?
    ‘I still am planning to sail as soon as possible, sir,’ Blackstone said emphatically. ‘I’ve got what I came here for, and the sooner my prisoner is hanging at the end of a rope, the happier I’ll be.’
    ‘Perhaps so,’ Comstock said. ‘Certainly so. The guilty must be punished as speedily as possible. I agree with you on that.’ He paused. ‘And, indeed, passage has been booked for you on the first available ship, which sets sail in four days’ time. But, as regards the other matter I just mentioned . . .’
    ‘I wasn’t aware you had mentioned another matter, sir.’
    ‘Weren’t you? Then perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. At any rate, during the course of last night, and then again this morning, I exchanged a number of telegrams with Assistant Commissioner Todd on the subject of when you will, in fact, return to England yourself.’
    When you don’t know which way a conversation is going, the quickest way to find out is to shut your trap and just listen, Blackstone thought – and then followed his own advice.
    ‘Yes, Assistant Commissioner Todd,’ Comstock repeated. ‘Even from his telegrams, he struck me as a fine man who I am sure is a credit to his force.’
    There were many things Blackstone could have said at that moment – but he said nothing.
    ‘And . . . er . . . between us we have decided that one of my men will be given the task of escorting Duffy back to England instead, and that you, for your part, will remain with us for a while.’
    ‘What would be the point of that?’ Blackstone asked.
    ‘I . . . er . . . felt – and your assistant commissioner agreed with me – that this visit of yours presented us with the ideal opportunity to give you the chance to learn how we do things over here, while one of my men would learn how you do things over there.’
    It made sense in a way, Blackstone thought, but it still didn’t quite add up – particularly given Todd’s attitude to American policing methods.
    ‘I see,’ he said, non-committally.
    ‘And I further thought that the best way for you to profit from the experience would be to work on an actual case that we have pending at the moment – specifically, a murder case, in which field,