Johnny Montague sat back from the rickety table of the half-star hotel room in triumph, a pink sales slip in his hands. He had been on the point of throwing them away when in idle curiosity he began to thumb through them. Melody’s docket had been the second in the pile.

He knew her name of course. He was a thief of not inconsiderable vanity and he had taken care to buy all the newspapers reporting the robbery. Some sections of the press had made quite a beat-up over the two innocent women caught up in the drama. One journalist went so far as to write a chatty profile on these damsels in distress, describing them as sophisticated city women and listing their favorite pastimes, such as reading, dancing, going to the movies .

Whoever has that diamond, this Melody Hazard woman or that salesgirl Jasmine Morris, won’t have it for long. Don’t you worry about that!

Karl and Hudson were out finding a cheap house they could use, preferably secluded from nosy neighbors, a place where two women could be held without hope of attracting attention or aid. A cruel grin of anticipation revealed an uneven row of nicotine stained teeth.

It has to be conjectured what Johnny Montague would have thought had he known that several blocks across the city one of his intended victims was at that very moment struggling panic stricken against the ropes that held her to a chair in the luxury suite of a five-star hotel.

*

The bright chatting of maids passing down the corridor, freed from their working shift, prompted Melody to attempt again calling for help. But it was useless. She only verified what she already knew, that no sound she made through the folds of linen and silk entangling and muffling her mouth could penetrate beyond the door or the walls of the suite. The next best thing would be for a maid to arrive to turn the beds, but she remembered seeing a ‘do not disturb’ sign hanging from the door handle. Brentford and Orly had thought of everything.

Again Melody tried twisting and pulling her wrists within the bands of cord that held them, but the cloth of her blouse, especially the thicker double cuffs, still snagged and tangled the bonds. She wondered whether she could actually slip an arm out of one of the sleeves of her blouse altogether. However, there seemed no way of doing this either. The silk clung to her body and her arms, aided by sweat and static electricity, and the cuffs resisted her efforts to slip her hands upwards into the sleeves as much as they did the other way. Her fingers could find no knots. Orly had been careful to tie them at the backs of her hands well out of reach.

The cords wrapping her ankles were tight, and cinched as well. There was no way she could work them free without getting her hands to them. The idea of standing up and looping her arms over the back of the chair might have been feasible even with bound ankles. But she was tied at the waist, which made movement in the chair almost impossible.

This was not like the first situation, when Melody lay on the floor of the jewellery store bound and tape-gagged. Hudson had loosened their bonds and, even if she and Jasmine Morris had been unable to free themselves, they would have been found and freed by the police or a night guard. And she had not told anyone where she was going.

That was not entirely true, she reminded herself. Tilly knew where she was because she had passed on the hotel’s phone number to her. But it would be hours, not until the next day, before Tilly raised the alarm, and by then it might be too late. By then she might have been spirited away. Melody shivered. Beneath the aura of dandyism that Brentford and Orly displayed, she guessed they were ruthless men. So, for all practical purposes, Melody was on her own.

There had to be a weak link somewhere. That’s what Brod would say. It’s up to me to find it before those two get back, she told herself.

Melody took a deep breath, fought back the panic and tears that threatened to engulf her at any moment, and tried to inventory her position. Her gag was not a weak point. That was for sure. Neither were her ankles. Or her wrists, surprisingly. What was there left? The cord at her waist? She looked down at it. It had been long enough for Orly to turn twice about her, and it was knotted across her midriff. Looking awkwardly back over her shoulder, Melody could see that it had been passed between the narrow slats that formed the back of the chair and not the heavy outer frame. The backs of her hands were almost touching it.

On an impulse, Melody tried to grip the cord with her fingers and, after fumbling at it, she succeeded in gaining a good hold on it. She pulled on the cord in one direction and discovered with growing excitement that it began to slide around her. She sucked in her waist and found that it sped up the process. In a surprisingly short time the knot that had been resting somewhere close to her navel was against her fingers, and it did not take her long to pick the simple double knot open. The cord fell loosely across her lap. Now she could try to stand and loop her arms out of the chair.

It worked and, with her ankles tied, she almost fell but managed to sit in the chair instead. However, that was the next step, she told herself. The extempore strategy was becoming clearer to her with every second.

With consummate care, Melody lowered herself to the floor till she was on her knees, her body upright. The suppleness of a fit body again stood her in good stead, for she was able to sit back on her heels without undue difficulty even in the moderately high heels she was wearing. Being bound only at hand and foot helped in this. If her arms and legs had been trussed with additional rope, the way Johnny Montague had done it, her limbs would have been painfully stretched and cramped.

The next step was to get her hands to the cord wound plentifully around her ankles. It was cinched, but there was only one double knot holding it together, and when she found the knot it was just a matter of time before her legs were free.

Melody scrambled to her feet, hampered by having her arms still bound behind her back, and looked about the room. The next step was obvious. She had to find something to cut the ropes at her wrists. Did the place have a kitchen? On legs that trembled from delayed shock and the cramped position in which she had been sitting, Melody explored at first one door then another: a bathroom, a closet door that looked for all the world as though it would lead somewhere and, third time lucky, a small kitchen. The drawer containing a modest assortment of cutlery was at waist level, fortunately, and soon Melody had a short bladed peeling knife in her hands. Among the knives, forks and spoons it seemed to be the sharpest instrument available, not ideal but it would have to do.

Feeling trapped in the kitchen, Melody walked back into the main room and stood to one side of the window. Through a gap in the curtain, she looked anxiously for any sign of the approach of the two men while she began to saw ever so slowly at one of the sections of cord imprisoning her wrists. The window looked out on the rear car park of the hotel so there was a fifty-fifty chance that Brentford and Orly would be returning from that direction, if they had a vehicle. There was enough play in the loops to allow her to reach the cord with the blade, but for one exasperating moment the knife slipped from her hands and she had to kneel awkwardly to retrieve it.

Melody felt a strand of the hemp part under the sharp edge of the knife and her spirits began to rise. But at that very moment when success and eventual freedom began to seem assured, she heard voices in the corridor outside and a key inserted in the lock. Melody’s heart went cold. She was totally exposed where she was standing. She looked around desperately. Perhaps the small kitchen annex would have been better after all.

There seemed no place to hide until her eyes fell upon the cupboard door, standing ajar as she had left it during her initial search of the suite. Moving with a speed she would have thought impossible under other circumstances, Melody literally dived into the closet and pulled the door shut behind her. She had to bend forward and raise her arms in order to reach the inside handle of the cupboard, and in the process the small knife fell from her hands.

There she stood, alone, in the darkness. Her hands were still helplessly imprisoned. The gag around her face added to her discomfort. It tasted stale and was sodden with saliva that made the corners of her mouth itch.

With her foot she managed to locate the knife, but she was torn between the necessity of retrieving it and curiosity about Brentford’s and Orly’s reactions upon entering an empty room. With an ear against the door, she listened intently. There was at first no sound, then came a verbal explosion as charge, counter-charge, and recriminations passed between the two men. After a short time, the argument settled down and Melody could follow their exchanges more distinctly.

‘I thought you tied her good and tight.’ That was Brentford.

‘I did. But maybe I was gentler with her than I should have been. Really, this kidnapping business is not our scene.’

‘Yes old chum, I relate to that too. But what will our boss say?’

‘Does he have to know? We can have another crack at the dear lady, though it goes against the grain. And there’s the other woman. Comes across as a flighty little bird in the press reports. We might be able to get more out of her’

‘I fully concur. Let us consult further over a pint of bitter — if we can find one in this godforsaken land — and plan our next move.’

Melody heard the main door close. She was glad they had not thought about searching the rooms. They might be more harmless than she had first thought, but all the same she did not relish falling into their hands again. She was tired of being bound and gagged and frightened.

Several minutes of sweating followed as Melody knelt with difficulty and picked up the knife from the floor of the closet where, still kneeling, she completed the task of severing the last strands of the cord that bound her wrists. She stepped out of the closet, which had become uncomfortably stuffy in that short time, and tore the gags from her mouth. Her bag still lay on the table where it had been left. Not very observant of Brentford and Orly, otherwise they might have suspected she was still somewhere in the hotel suite. She scooped the assortment of her belongings back into the bag, including the wet wads of linen handkerchief and neckerchief.

The hotel desk clerks were only faintly diverted by the sight of a beautiful brunette with disheveled hair crossing the foyer, a black silk scarf hanging untidily around her neck. They had seen it all before.

*

Melody’s arms attempted to encircle Brod. It was like trying to put them around the bole of a large tree! She drew her head back and met his gray concerned eyes with her frank blue gaze. His face was blurred through her tears.

‘I’m not going to pieces. I’m just having some very warm thoughts about being safe again with you.’

‘I’d better take you home.’

‘Brod,’ Melody said tentatively, ‘I think this whole case has a long way to go. I don’t want to be continually running from men planning to abduct me because they think I know something about that silly diamond. I want to be on the offensive for a change. From now on I’ll follow your advice. I didn’t realize how serious this whole affair was till I walked into that trap.’

‘There are some things I can’t do without your help Melody. If you’re going to stumble across villains all the time, we should put your talents for getting into trouble to good use. But I stop short of using you as a decoy. If I had a choice you’d be out of the case for your own good, as I said before.’

‘But that’s impossible, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. Until we’re able to track down that diamond you’re still officially under suspicion. Though I don’t believe that you have guilty knowledge of it,’ Brod hastened to add in response to Melody’s sharp exclamation. ‘For some reason two groups of underworld persons, both ostensibly as different as chalk and cheese, think you know where the diamond is. And a more serious development, the fact which had us phoning frantically to find you a few hours ago, is that the original thieves have a means of tracing where you live. So you’re very much at risk.’

‘Oh Brod! How can they possibly know where I live?’

‘The sales docket the girl Jasmine filled out when you handed your ring in for repair. It went with the rest of the loot. And it has your name and address on it. That gang are not exceptionally bright but we can’t allow ourselves to be complacent about it. The best safeguard is to expect the worst.’

‘You mean another attempt to snatch me?’

‘Exactly. I’ll come with you and check out your apartment. It should be safe enough for tonight. Then it may be a good idea for you to stay with friends in another part of the city for awhile.’

The journey to Melody’s apartment proceeded in silence. Melody was exhausted from her ordeal and, now that she had told Brod all about it, all she wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep the clock around.

Brod cruised past the block and made a U turn further up the street. Everything was in darkness except for a night-light outside one apartment which its tenant had left glowing.

‘Look for the danger spots. That clump of shrubs on the right. The patch of shadow just below the steps.’

‘Yes,’ said Melody, in a tired half whisper. ‘The rest of the approach is open. If anyone comes for me I’ll see them at a distance and be able to give them a good run for their money.’

‘If something like that happens don’t try any heroics. Just lock your door and phone the police immediately.’

‘I promise,’ she said quietly.

Brod’s precautions were putting her on edge and she drew a relieved sigh when at last they stood inside her apartment with the door behind them locking away the outside world. Placing his fingers against her lips for silence - she responded by kissing them lightly - Brod moved across the room to the kitchen entrance with surprising speed. Having satisfied himself that no intruder hid there, he moved to her bedroom door. Brod disappeared into the room and after several seconds the light came on.

Melody joined him. ‘Have you checked the bathroom?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about the closet?’

The door of the built-in wardrobe was half-open and only a small section of its interior was in darkness. Brod strode to it and with a quick movement opened the door the rest of the way. All it revealed were three or four skirts, Melody’s second jacket and last season’s trench coat. The rack on the other side of the wardrobe seemed to be filled with a dozen or more blouses and several long scarves of the Isadora Duncan kind. Three pairs of dressy high heel shoes stood on the floor of the wardrobe together with a pair of sensible flat soled shoes and a pair of bunny slippers.

‘When you’ve finished admiring my clothes,’ Melody said with a roguish smile, ‘do you mind vacating my bedroom while I get into the proverbial more comfortable something? You can make us both coffee while you’re waiting. I don’t want you to go before you’ve relaxed awhile and had a drink. I’m so tired an extra shot of caffeine won’t keep my head off the pillow tonight!’

As they sat in the small apartment’s two armchairs, Brod gratefully drinking a strong Irish coffee while the young woman sipped a very weak flat white, Melody asked whether much was known about her two would-be abductors.

‘Brentford and Orly,’ Brod mused, ‘or Bent Face and Oily as you so charmingly phrased it back at the precinct, represent a serious development. They’re small fish, confidence men who usually prey on rich widows and the like. Up until now they’ve been harmless rogues. And they’re normally free-lance. They don’t ordinarily have working relationships with other criminals.’

‘So they’re little more than con men,’ Melody stated.

‘Quite,’ replied Brod, regarding her gravely. ‘But now there’s a new factor in the equation. From what you’ve just told us about what you overheard when you were hiding in the closet, they’re not free-lance any longer, and that makes them especially dangerous. It’s the only thing that might explain why they made the attempt to kidnap you. One of our new puzzles in this investigation is to establish who it is they are working for.’

Melody sat at her desk transferring information from Friday’s sales slips into Tilly’s computer records, but she found it difficult to keep her mind on the job. The developments of the weekend had her in turmoil. She did not know whether to refuse further involvement in the case save for the protection that could be arranged for her, or whether to accept the risks. The low buzz of the phone brought her back to business.

‘Hullo? Swag Boutique.’

‘Can I speak to Melody Hazard please?’ It was a woman’s voice. It’s affectedness was vaguely familiar.’

Melody became instantly alert. After a moment’s delay during which she considered whether to identify herself or not, she answered. ‘Yes, this is Melody Hazard. Who’s calling please?’

‘Oh, Madam, I’m so glad to find. I kept starting to phone you, then changed my mind. I don’t know what to do about it all!’

I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Who are you?’

‘I’m the sales lady who was in the jewellery shop with you when it was robbed. I’m Jasmine Morris.’

*

The movie crowds were in and the lobby of the cinema was almost deserted. Melody decided to wait another fifteen minutes. Ten minutes later she caught sight of Jasmine Morris approaching from behind her out of one of the cinemas. The girl had been watching a movie. A good way to hide out temporarily, thought Melody. She observed with amusement that Jasmine had been watching the 1938 Hitchcock classic ‘The Lady Vanishes’ and wondered whether the girl was aware of the irony.

As Jasmine approached, Melody saw that her face was drawn with fatigue and her eyes shone with a feverish light. She was not dressed in the flimsy apparel she had been wearing when first they met. Instead she wore an expensive looking grey business suit, the colour relieved slightly by the pink material of a bustier worn beneath the jacket. Jasmine’s hair was done up as it had been in the jewellery store. She carried a small pink hand bag.

She does have expensive tastes, thought Melody. She herself wore an ankle length skirt of heavy Indian cotton in russet, warm boots to mid-calf with their tops folded down, a cream silk blouse, red neck scarf, and a dark jacket.

They ordered coffee at a small eatery nearby and Melody got down to business.

‘There’s no need to be afraid right now, Jasmine. It’s not likely an attempt will be made to abduct either of us here in broad daylight. ‘Yes,’ she continued in response to the girl’s look of surprise, ‘I know we’re both in some jeopardy. But we really have very good protection. At least I have. And I hope you’ll accept it too.’ Melody sipped her coffee. ‘Jasmine, what on earth happened to you?’

The girl cleared her throat nervously and fiddled with the sugar spoon. ‘It’s hard to know where to begin. It had been such a quiet day. I’d had lunch. The boss told me to look after the place for the rest of the day, and to lock up the diamond for safe keeping after the first hour. He has other business interests.’

Melody did not betray by even a flicker that she knew what those ‘business interests’ were. Brod had briefed her on that one! The girl continued.

‘I was even thinking about closing up early. Thursday afternoons are often slack.’

She’s beginning to ramble, thought Melody. Aloud she said, ‘Get to the point dear. It’s a long day and there’s a lot we should do.’

‘Well,’ Jasmine said slowly, ‘When those awful men came rushing into the shop I froze, like you did. I didn’t know what to do. I thought, "My god, a robbery. My boss’ll kill me." Then I thought, "The diamond!" It was there in my hand. "At least it won’t be so bad if they don’t get the diamond," I said to myself.’

She’s choosing her words very carefully, and at the same time trying to make me think she’s scatter brained, but we’re slowly getting to the truth about that diamond, maybe, thought Melody.

‘What did you do then?’ she asked.

‘I hid it. No, I shan’t tell you where. But I want to make you a proposition.’

Jasmine looked at her through hooded green eyes. Like a cross between a cat and a snake, thought Melody.

Jasmine continued in a scarcely audible whisper. ‘I got to thinking, "Why should my boss get that diamond back?" Then I thought of you. You’re older. You’re not too wealthy either. Well look at your clothes!’

‘Thanks a lot!’

‘Think what it would be like to share the millions that diamond’s worth. We’d be set up for the rest of our lives.’

‘Assuming they last long enough! But if was interested in your proposition how do you think I can help?’

‘You probably know your way around better than me. You could find someone who’s prepared to buy it, a fence I think they’re called. I’m no good at business matters.’

That’s a weak reason, Melody said to herself. She must know that I’m new in town. She obviously wants something else.

‘You know I could turn you over to the police?’

‘Yes. But think it over before you do.’

‘No, you think it over! You’re playing a game that’s more dangerous than you think. I wondered whether you knew about the diamond. That was why you ran away. I’m right aren’t I?`

The girl nodded.

‘I tell you what I’ll do. If you agree, I’ll introduce you to … a special sort of policeman. When he tells yo u what they know about the parties interested in the diamond I’m sure you’ll cooperate.’

‘I could walk out of here right now,’ Jasmine said defiantly.

‘Of course you can. And then you’re back where you started. With the thieves on your trail. As they are on mine.’

Jasmine clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘You mean they really are looking for us?’

Melody nodded seriously. ‘If you had only intangible fears before, let me tell you they’re for real. I’ve had one narrow escape. So you must see it’s more sensible to go to the police, for your own protection.’

The girl sat slumped in her chair, her knuckles between her teeth. Then slowly she raised her head, not quite hiding the sly expression that flickered across her face. ‘All right. But I need to talk to you some more before you contact the police. Can I see you after work today?’

‘Of course. Why don’t you come round to my place?’

Melody scribbled her address on a blank page torn from her note book and handed it across the table. The girl read the address and seemed to brighten up.

‘I hope you’ll see reason,’ Melody concluded. ‘I’m not interested in the diamond. I happen to think both our lives are more important than any gem-stone.’

*

‘We’ve found a good house, righty sure said Karl, ‘At the back of a warehouse down near the docks. Joint next door is empty. The people further down the block mind their own business.’

Johnny Montague took a swig from the bottle of Old Dustmouth whisky and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘What’s the layout of the place?’

‘There’s a back room with a strong door but it needs a padlock. That’s no problem. When I’ve finished with the girl she won’t be able to do much about an unlocked door. The place has a couple of other rooms, and a small cellar. That will come in useful,’ Karl ended meaningfully.

‘I think we should start the job in daylight,’ said Montague. ‘Sometime in the afternoon when she’s home from work. She won’t be expecting anything to happen in daylight. But we’ll check out the scene earlier in case a better opportunity comes up.’

‘Like if she goes for a walk in the park,’ said Karl with relish.

*

When Melody’s brisk walk across the park brought her within view of her apartment, she saw with delight that Brod was already waiting for her though it was earlier than their planned meeting.

‘I’ve got interesting news,’ Melody stated as soon as they were inside. ‘I saw Jasmine Morris at lunch today.’

‘The hell you did?’

‘Yep. She phoned to say she wanted to see me urgently. Said she wanted my advice as an older more worldly woman. A load of what you’d call crud.’

‘What happened between you and the Morris girl?’

‘She was very devious. She offered me a share in the sale of the diamond. And, yes, she said she had it, Brod. Though I still can’t understand how she had time to hide it anywhere.’

‘You didn’t ask her?’

‘She switched channels. Said she wasn’t going to tell me where it was. Then I urged that she forget the diamond and look for police protection instead. She said she wanted time to think and made me promise not to phone the police. That meant you in the back of my mind. At least not till she’d seen me again. She’s coming over in about another hour as we arranged. What do you want me to do?’

‘See her by all means. She might tell you more, if she’s scared, and you can tell me later. You haven’t forgotten we have a date?’

‘Just try to keep me away!’

*

Twenty minutes after Brod had left, Melody heard the knock at the door she was expecting. She ran to the window and a sidelong glance satisfied her that it was indeed Jasmine. The girl was wearing the same expensive suit she wore earlier, but she now carried a large macrame bag which clashed violently with her clothes. It appeared empty.

‘You’ve come at the right time a cup of coffee,’ Melody said, as an ice-breaker.

Melody poured for them both while the girl settled resignedly into one of the armchairs. As she stood at the sink Melody saw from the corners of her eyes Jasmine casting long hard glances about the apartment. The cliched criminal phrase ‘casing the joint’ came to her mind and Melody felt uneasy. She asked herself, What’s that little liar up to? She crossed back to Jasmine, placed her coffee cup on the low table before her and seated herself in the other chair.

‘Have you made a decision yet?’ she asked without preamble.

Jasmine nodded. ‘Yes, Madam. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and I’ve decided not to worry you any more. Forget what I said about the diamond. You haven’t told the police anything have you?`

‘No, not the police,’ Melody replied truthfully. After all, Brod’s not a policeman, she told herself.

Jasmine gave an audible sigh of relief. Her next words astonished Melody. ‘And about that diamond. I was lying to you. I don’t really have it.’

Melody was nonplussed. ‘But why that story about sharing its value with me?’

‘I just wanted to know if I had a friend,’ Jasmine blurted unconvincingly. ‘I was so frightened after that experience, and you were kind to me.’

‘So what do you intend to do?’

‘Get away from here as soon as I can, and as far as possible!’

‘That’s not altogether wise. I told you we were both in danger. You’d be better off in police protection. They have safe houses in different parts of the suburbs.’

‘I’ll take my chances,’ replied Jasmine haughtily and with an assumed bravery that Melody also found hard to believe.

Melody thought gravely, She has some hidden motive, something that’s making her desperate enough to ignore the threat from those two gangs. But then she doesn’t really know the details about them. Should I tell her more to persuade her?

*

‘So in the end I decided to do nothing.’ Melody was facing Brod across the table of a Chinese restaurant. ‘But I did get her address. She said she’d probably stay in the hotel one more night.’

‘It’s a pity you couldn’t have twisted her arm to stay,’ said Brod thoughtfully. ‘Now we’re back to square one where her whereabouts are concerned. She’ll probably skip that hotel tonight.’

‘I know. But I couldn’t very well hold her by force. ‘

Brod looked at her thoughtfully. ’The case is at a standstill for the moment and I was hoping the Morris woman would provide a lead. Oscar and I are tired of it at present.’

He sat back and with his characteristic movement ran his fingers through his hair. Then he leaned forward once again and took Melody’s hand in his.

They ate in companionable silence, talked animatedly between courses, and drank sufficient good red wine to add dignity to the meal and leave them relaxed in body and mi. Both tacitly avoided the awkward questions that remained about the diamond and instead filled each other in on aspects of their past. Their hands often touched. It began to grow late.

‘Come on,’ said Melody. ‘Let’s go to your car. It’s been a lovely evening, but I’m a working girl and I’m dog tired after today’s interrogation of that little liar. I’m glad Tilly’s given me the morning off.’

Back at her apartment, Melody waited on the sidewalk while Brod locked the car. They mounted the steps together.

‘That’s funny,’ she exclaimed as she began to unlock the door. ‘This lock feels more stiff than usual. And I don’t remember leaving the light on. Oh Brod, what if …?` She turned a frightened face to him.

The lock clicked open at last and Brod firmly moved Melody to one side and pushed the door open with his foot. He stepped in and she followed cautiously, shutting the door softly behind them with a faint snick.

In the light cast from Melody’s bedroom the front living area looked normal. Brod repeated his movements of the previous occasion when they had thought the flat had been entered, first going to the kitchen then to Melody’s room. As he stepped across the threshold she heard him grunt softly in surprise.

‘What is it?’ she whispered, moving quickly to his side.

Brod did not have to answer. The signs of intrusion were plain to see. Melody’s room had been searched, her suitcase emptied and its contents scattered about the floor.

*

Meanwhile, in the Hotel Excelsior, a terrified Jasmine Morris was sitting in the chair that had accommodated Melody on the previous day. And, like Melody then, she was roped into immobility. A flimsy silk scarf was tied very tightly in her mouth between her jaws.

‘What do you think of this prize?’ said Rupert Orly to his compatriot in crime Cuthbert Brentford.

‘Not quite in the same class as the delectable Melody Hazard,’ answered Brentford thoughtfully, ‘but perhaps more amenable to some friendly, ahh, persuasion. Isn’t that so, my dear?’

‘Lg gee gooo,’ Jasmine mmphed distractedly. ‘Hllg. Hllg.’

‘I’m afraid there’s no one close enough to hear you my dear. But if you insist on making that untoward racket we have little choice. Rupert, your handkerchief, there’s a good chap.’

After a short unavailing struggle, Jasmine Morris became very quiet.