’ 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. ‘Alors, now I am also a murderer. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. She infused menace into her voice. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings.
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