“My name is Heat. Chief Inspector Heat of the Special Crimes section.”
Mrs Verloc adjusted nicely in its place a small cardboard box, and turning round, faced him again, heavy-eyed, with idle hands hanging down. A silence reigned for a time.
“So your husband went out a quarter of an hour ago! And he didn’t say when he would be back?”
“He didn’t go out alone,” Mrs Verloc let fall negligently.
“A friend?”
Mrs Verloc touched the back of her hair. It was in perfect order.
“A stranger who called.”
“I see. What sort of man was that stranger? Would you mind telling me?”
Mrs Verloc did not mind. And when Chief Inspector Heat heard of a man dark, thin, with a long face and turned up moustaches, he gave signs of perturbation, and exclaimed:
“Dash me if I didn’t think so! He hasn’t lost any time.”