’ Chapter Three Captain Hilary Roding listened with only half an ear to the long-winded report being given by Sergeant Trodger, his idle gaze wandering over the congested traffic of Piccadilly and the many pedestrians weaving a hazardous path through it. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. “They are coming past our table. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. " Mrs. 95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI.
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