‘Come back and have a meal with us. Hilda would like to see you again. I can telephone her from here.’

‘Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’d be glad to, some other time.’

Tilling stared at Hibson, his eyes probing, blatantly curious. ‘That sounds like a woman. But I thought you’d only been in the city a couple of hours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well?’

‘As a matter of fact, it’s one of the hostesses from the plane. She’s having dinner with me. Any suggestions as to where I should take her?’

Leverett asked: ‘Swissair?’

‘Yes.’

‘On a two-hour flight. You don’t need advice – you need handicapping.’

‘Still the fast operator,’ Tilling said. ‘You don’t change much, Charles, do you?’

‘I get older.’

‘More experience,’ Leverett said, ‘less dynamic. I know just how it is.’

Tilling looked at them both. He smiled, but with annoyance. ‘I wonder what it is that drives people like you. It’s an interesting study.’

Leverett grinned at him. ‘Save it for when you’ve re-written The Miser. But you’ll need to do some field work first. Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll start you off on a couple of hot trails.’

‘Observation and insight,’ Tilling said, ‘can provide a good substitute for actual experience.’