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By Root 542 0

alleyway, and he stood there now barring her way out. As is the precarious fashion of London, one moment you are amongst people all round you and the next moment there is nobody in sight. There must be people in the next street, someone in the houses near, but nearer than that is a masterful figure, a figure with strong cruel hands. She felt that in this moment he was thinking of using those hands…The Peacock. A proud peacock. In his velvets, his tight, elegant black trousers, speaking in that quiet ironical amused voice that held behind it anger…Mrs Oliver took three big gasps. Then, in a lightning moment of decision she put up a quickly imagined defence. Firmly and immediately she sat down on a dustbin which was against the wall quite close to her.

‘Goodness, how you startled me,’ she said. ‘I’d no idea you were there. I hope you’re not annoyed.’

‘So you were following me?’

‘Yes, I’m afraid I was. I expect it must have been rather annoying to you. You see I thought it would be such an excellent opportunity. I’m sure you’re frightfully angry but you needn’t be, you know. Not really. You see —’ Mrs Oliver settled herself more firmly on the dustbin, ‘you see I write books. I write detective stories and I’ve really been very worried this morning. In fact I went into a café to have a cup of coffee just to try and think things out. I’d just got to the point in my book where I was following somebody. I mean my hero was following someone and I thought to, myself, “Really I know very little about following people.” I mean, I’m always using the phrase in a book and I’ve read a lot of books where people do follow other people, and I wondered if it was as easy as it seems to be in some people’s books or if it was as almost entirely impossible as it seemed in other people’s books. So I thought “Well, really, the only thing was to try it out myself” — because until you try things out yourself you can’t really tell what it’s like. I mean you don’t know what you feel like, or whether you get worried at losing a person. As it happened, I just looked up and you were sitting at the next table to me in the café and I thought you’d be — I hope you won’t be annoyed again — but I thought you’d be an especially good person to follow.’

He was still staring at her with those strange, cold blue eyes, yet she felt somehow that the tension had left them.

‘Why was I an especially good person to follow?’

‘Well, you were so decorative,’ explained Mrs Oliver. ‘They are really very attractive clothes — almost Regency, you know, and I thought, well, I might take advantage of your being fairly easy to distinguish from other people. So you see, when you went out of the café I went out too. And it’s not really easy at all.’ She looked up at him. ‘Do you mind telling me if you knew I was there all the time?’

‘Not at once, no.’

‘I see,’ said Mrs Oliver thoughtfully. ‘But of course I’m not as distinctive as you are. I mean you wouldn’t be able to tell me very easily from a lot of other elderly women. I don’t stand out very much, do I?’

‘Do you write books that are published? Have I ever come across them?’

‘Well, I don’t know. You may have. I’ve written forty-three by now. My name’s Oliver.’

‘Ariadne Oliver?’

‘So you do know my name,’ said Mrs Oliver. ‘Well, that’s rather gratifying, of course, though I daresay you wouldn’t like my books very much. You probably would find them rather old-fashioned — not violent enough.’

‘You didn’t know me personaly beforehand?’

Mrs Oliver shook her head. ‘No, I’m sure I don’t — didn’t, I mean.’

‘What about the girl I was with?’

‘You mean the one you were having — baked beans, was it — with in the café? No, I don’t think so. Of course I only saw the back of her head. She looked to me — well, I mean girls do look rather alike, don’t they?’

‘She knew you,’ said the boy suddenly. His tone in a moment had a sudden acid sharpness. ‘She mentioned once that she’d met you not long ago. About a week ago, I believe.’

‘Where? Was it at a party? I suppose I might have met her. What’s her name? Perhaps I’d know that.’

She