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driving it might’ve injured himself.’
    â€˜Might be a match for the blood on the showcase, sir,’ suggested Marriott.
    â€˜Possibly, Marriott, possibly,’ said Hardcastle. ‘How soon can you give me a result, Charlie?’
    â€˜It’ll take a day or two,’ said Collins, ‘even after I’ve classified them into arches, loops, whorls or composites.’
    â€˜I suppose that all means something,’ muttered Hardcastle, who had no great knowledge of the finer points of fingerprint classification. But he knew he had to be satisfied with Collins’s decision, having long ago discovered that experts were not to be rushed.
    â€˜I’ll let you know if I come up with a match, Ernie,’ said Collins.
    â€˜We’ll see if we can find anything useful in this here motor car, Marriott,’ said Hardcastle, once Collins had departed to make his way back to Scotland Yard.
    But the detectives’ search proved disappointing, apart from a scarf that Marriott found on the floor of the vehicle.
    â€˜Ah, and there’s this, sir,’ said Marriott, producing a gold albert from beneath the driver’s seat.
    â€˜Bring them with you, Marriott,’ said Hardcastle. ‘They might belong to one of our killers. On the other hand, they might belong to Sinclair Villiers. Although I doubt that Villiers would’ve left an albert in his precious motor car.’
    â€˜Could be part of the villain’s haul, sir. Either way up, it doesn’t look as though Villiers will be able to have his run to Worthing tomorrow.’
    â€˜Hard luck!’ said Hardcastle, who was not greatly concerned about the pastimes of people he described as the idle rich.
    Despite their late finish on the Saturday evening, Hardcastle and Marriott were back at Cannon Row police station on the Sunday morning. But with an uncharacteristic act of charity, Hardcastle had told Marriott that he need not arrive until nine o’clock.
    â€˜We’ll pay Mr Villiers a visit, Marriott,’ said Hardcastle, glancing at his watch, ‘and give him the glad news about his car. We’ll also ask him if he knows anything about the scarf and the albert we found in it.’
    â€˜I hope you’ve come to tell me that you’ve found my car, Inspector,’ said Villiers, as the butler showed Hardcastle and Marriott into the parlour in Flood Street. His tone was such as to indicate that he expected nothing less.
    â€˜Yes, we have, sir,’ said Hardcastle.
    â€˜Splendid,’ said Villiers warmly. ‘Have you brought it with you?’ He took a step towards the window and peered out.
    â€˜No, Mr Villiers, we haven’t. It’s at Wandsworth police station waiting for you to collect it at your convenience.’
    â€˜But surely, the least the police could have done was to bring it back to me.’ Villiers turned from the window, his eyebrows raised.
    â€˜I’m afraid not, sir,’ said Marriott. ‘Police regulations don’t allow it. If there was an accident, the Commissioner would be liable for any damages that might be incurred, you see.’ He was unsure whether this was the case, but it seemed a good reason for not providing such a service to the careless owners of expensive motor cars that they left in the street.
    Hardcastle nodded his approval at his sergeant’s initiative. ‘What my sergeant says is quite correct, sir.’ Not that such an excuse would have occurred to the DDI; and he did not even know whether it was true.
    â€˜That’s a damn’ nuisance,’ said Villiers. ‘As I told you yesterday, I was hoping to go to Worthing today.’ He paused. ‘Was the car damaged in any way?’
    â€˜Not as far as we could see, sir,’ said Hardcastle, ‘although there’s a goodly amount of mud on it.’
    â€˜Have you seen this scarf before, sir?’ asked Marriott, producing the item of clothing that he