“Quite so, sir,” said P.C. Bloke. “Might I ’ave your lady’s full name?” “Certainly. Virginia Stacey Peruke. What had she better wear when she goes to Court? Mourning?” Virginia began to weep violently, and P.C. Bloke, who was writing, dropped his pencil and regarded her open-mouthed. “Supposing,” said Roger suddenly, “supposing you took my statement.” Derry started and Rosemary stiffened in her chair. Virginia continued to sob explosively. “I mean, as the lady’s going, I may as well back her up.” “Without doubt, sir,” said the constable greedily. “May I ’ave——” “I first saw the coupé,” said Roger, “when it was almost upon us. The headlights picked it up and enabled me to see right into the car. As our chauffeur applied his brakes, the man who was driving the coupé——” “‘The woman,’ I think you mean, sir.” “No, no,” said Roger calmly. “It was a man driving. As I was saying, he——” “But the lady’s stated——” “Has she?” said Captain Chase, stifling a yawn. “Oh, well, I can’t help that. He had a hand on the wheel, and——” “One moment, sir. Which side was the steering on?” “On the right,” said Roger. “The man was driving with a woman by his side.” For a moment nobody breathed. Then the constable took out a handkerchief and mopped his face. “Well, that beats it,” he said wearily. “’Ere’s a direc’ conflic’ on the most important point. They can’t both ’ve bin drivin’.” He turned to Virginia. “Madam, are you sure——” “P-positive,” quavered Virginia. “Oh, don’t be silly,” said Roger. “He had a spade-shaped beard.” “She hadn’t,” said Virginia stoutly. “She looked perfectly sweet.” P.C. Bloke put his note-book and pencil away. Then he turned to Derry. “One or the other’s mistook, sir. That’s perfectly plain. And there for the moment I’ll leave it. If I may ’ave a word with your chauffeur . . .” “I see,” said Major Peruke. “I suppose you want him to give the casting-vote. If he says a woman was driving, you’ll call the lady. If he says a man was driving——” “Well, sir,” said Bloke uneasily, “we mus’ do our best. The Commissioner’s orders——” “Assume he says that the driver of the coupé was a man. Very good. In that case you call that gentleman. _Supposing the defence were to get hold of Mrs. Peruke._” “We mus’ ’ope they wouldn’t, sir.” “_But they have_,” said Derry. “In fact, they’ve got hold of them both: and whichever one you don’t want they’re going to call.” The constable stared at the speaker with starting eyes. Then he glanced round wildly. Virginia and Captain Chase were nodding confirmatively. “But the summons ain’t issued,” he cried. “There ain’t no defence—not yet. Why, the coopy don’t even know that its number was took.” “Oh yes, it do—doth,” said Derry. “You told us as much—just now. ‘Whose number I afterwards ascertained to be XL 9436.’” “Yes, but you ain’t the defence, sir.” “Not yet,” was the pregnant reply. The luckless officer recoiled against the wall.