‘Ah. I was going to suggest the Army.’ He smiled a little and picked up Grant’s glass to refill it. ‘The more rarefied ranks, of course.’
‘G.S.O. 1?’
‘No. An attaché, I think. Or Intelligence.’
‘I have done a spot of Intelligence during my Army career.’
‘So that is where you developed your taste for it. May I say, your flair.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It was no ordinary talent that identified Charles Martin as Bill Kenrick. Or had he Kenrick belongings that made the identification easy?’
‘No. He was buried as Charles Martin.’
Lloyd paused as he was setting the filled glass down and said: ‘That is so typical of that careless Scottish way of dealing with sudden death. They are always very smug about their lack of inquests. Myself, I think Scotland must be an ideal place in which to get away with murder. If ever I plan one, I shall lure my victim north of the Border.’
‘There was an inquest, as it happens. The accident took place shortly after the train left Euston.’