"Sounds bad," admitted Tony. "Nothing but a desperate crisis can put Royalty off their food."
Molly nodded. "I know. I thought for a moment he might have fallen in love with somebody else, but it wasn't that either. Something's happened, and unless I'm three parts of an idiot it's got to do with Livadia."
"How exciting!" observed Tony. "It makes me feel like a secret service man in a novel." He paused. "Why do you think it's Livadia though? It might——"
"If it wasn't Livadia," interrupted Molly, "he'd have told me all about it."
"Why didn't you ask him?"
Molly shook her head. "It's no good. He has promised Da Freitas never to talk about Livadian affairs to anybody, and he's just sufficiently stupid to keep his word even where I'm concerned. Of course I could get it out of him sooner or later, but you can't rush Peter, and it's a question of time. There's something going on, and I want to find out what it is as quick as possible." She sat up and looked at Tony. "That's where you come in," she added.
Tony looked at her in mild surprise. "I would love to help you if I could, Molly," he said, "but I'm afraid that any lingering charm I may have had for your Peter vanished with that five hundred quid he had to fork out yesterday."
"You can help me all right if you will," said Molly. She paused. "Do you remember telling me once about that friend of yours—what's his name?—the boy who is running a motor business in Portriga?"
The dawn of an understanding began to flicker across Tony's face.
"You mean Jimmy—Jimmy Dale." He paused. "If Jimmy can be of any use you have only got to say so. I am sure he will do anything I ask him short of murdering the President."