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the police at Chelsea, but always wanted to hear it first-hand.
    â€˜I’m getting a bit too old for that sort of revelry, Inspector. I went to bed at about eleven, read for twenty minutes or so, and didn’t wake up until just gone seven when Henwood brought me my morning tea. He opened the curtains and stared down into the street. Then he turned to face me and told me that the car wasn’t outside. That was the first I knew that it had gone.’
    â€˜Does anyone else in the house have permission to drive your car, sir?’ asked Marriott.
    â€˜No, I’m here alone, apart from the servants. My wife doesn’t live with me any more. She’s got her own place in Prince of Wales Drive in Battersea,’ said Villiers, without enlarging on the reason. ‘But I do allow Haydn to use it when he’s on leave, but he’s in France at the moment.’
    â€˜Haydn, sir?’
    â€˜Yes, he’s my son. He’s a captain in the Royal Field Artillery. But he spends what little furlough he gets with Hannah – that’s my wife – although most of the time I suspect he’s in the West End enjoying himself. With some young ragtime girl, if he’s got any sense. Frankly, I don’t see much of him, but you can’t blame these young officers for letting their hair down when they get the chance. From what I’ve heard of it, it’s pretty bloody out there, in more ways than one.’
    â€˜So I believe, sir,’ murmured Hardcastle.
    â€˜Is it possible that your son is on leave at the moment, but that you don’t know, sir?’ asked Marriott. ‘I was thinking that he might’ve borrowed the car without telling you.’
    â€˜Definitely not, Sergeant. He wouldn’t have taken it without asking my permission,’ said Villiers. ‘He always makes a point of coming to see me, if only briefly, so I can assure you he’s not on leave. My son and I get on extremely well, even though Hannah and I no longer see eye to eye,’ he added, allowing his guard to drop for a brief moment. ‘In fact, I had a letter from Haydn only two days ago.’
    â€˜I think that’s all you can help me with at the moment, sir,’ said Hardcastle, as he and Marriott rose to their feet. ‘I’ll let you know if we find your motor car.’
    â€˜I’d much appreciate getting it back, Inspector,’ said Villiers. ‘I was thinking of having a run to Worthing tomorrow.’ He crossed the room and tugged at a bell pull. ‘Henwood will see you out, gentlemen.’
    â€˜Thank you for the whisky, sir,’ said Hardcastle. He did not say that if the vehicle was found, it was unlikely to be returned until DI Collins had been given the chance to examine it thoroughly.
    The butler stepped ahead of Hardcastle and opened the front door.
    â€˜Were you at home here all last night, Henwood?’ Hardcastle asked.
    â€˜I most certainly was.’ The butler assumed a pained expression.
    â€˜And your master?’
    â€˜Mr Villiers was here all night. Will that be all … Inspector?’
    â€˜Thank you, Henwood.’
    â€˜What d’you think, sir?’ asked Marriott, as he and the DDI walked down Flood Street in search of a taxi.
    â€˜Damn silly place to leave an expensive motor car, Marriott, that’s what I’m thinking,’ said Hardcastle. ‘I’d’ve thought that a man with that much money could’ve found an empty coach house nearby where he could’ve kept the thing. Not that it’s the sort of problem that’s ever likely to worry me,’ he added, finally sighting a cab.

THREE
    I t was not long before Hardcastle was given further news of Sinclair Villiers’s stolen motor car. At six o’clock, a constable appeared in the DDI’s office holding a message form.
    â€˜What is it, lad?’
    â€˜A message from Wandsworth about a Haxe-Doulton car that’s been found,