Simon nodded.
"I'll be here," he said.
He went back to Cornwall House with his head still buzzing; and for a long time he paced up and down the living room, smoking an interminable chain of cigarettes and scattering a trail of ash behind him on the carpet. At lunchtime he called Patricia.
"I've met a bird called Hubert Sentinel, and I think I know who the Z-Man is," he said. "I'm having dinner with him tonight."
He heard her gasp of amazement.
"But, boy, you can't—"
"Listen," he said. "You and Hoppy are going to be busy. I've got a lot more for you."
He talked for ten minutes that left her stunned and gave her comprehensive instructions.
Six o'clock was striking when he re-entered Sentinel's office, and the producer took down his hat at once. A large Rolls-Royce was parked outside the studio, and Sentinel himself took the wheel.
"How did you get on with Scotland Yard?" Simon enquired as they purred through the gates.