"No one could prove we had reason to suspect murder. We can afford to be thought fools. So we'll go on behaving as if such a thought never entered our minds." "I'm sorry, gents. I thought for a moment I'd been coshed." An odd sort of way in which to thank two helpful strangers after a nasty accident in a City street, and one bound to provoke speculation; especially when the strangers happen to be Ludovic Travers and his senior operative,...