The Kindness of Strangers

Monday, June 15, 1953

“Goodness me,” said Mrs. Orla Rosenfeld, bringing red-lacquered fingertips to her chest. “When you asked to speak to me about someone I used to know, I had quite a few candidates in mind, if you catch my drift.” She winked at Hilary, who very much caught her drift, and pushed a plate of iced lemon creams toward him.

“Have another, Inspector.” The biscuits had been chosen, suspected Hilary, to coordinate with the yellow lampshades and arrangements of daisies in Mrs. Rosenfeld’s immaculately modern Mayfair drawing room.

“Actually,” said Hilary, “that’s what I wanted to ask you about. May I smoke?”