Chapter 20“Mr. Campion . . .”
The chief inspector set down his modest glass of Bass and leant confidentially across the coarse linen tablecloth.
“When Mr. Sutane phoned you last night and you spoke to him, what did you say?”
It was late in the day for lunch and Bonini’s stuffy upper room was practically deserted. They had that corner by the window which gives into Old Compton Street to themselves and Yeo’s gentle murmur carried no farther than the ear for which it was intended.
Campion, who was looking a little leaner and, in the inspector’s opinion, a good deal more intelligent than his usual, casually elegant self, blinked thoughtfully as the explanation of the hasty and pressing invitation was revealed to him. He glanced at Yeo, sitting square and absurd before him, and was inclined
