'But I thought you were the officer in charge of the investigation?'

Fletcher shook his head. 'Not now. I've just been kicked out of the detective bureau for losing Chate, something that I attribute fairly and squarely to your interference.'

'I tried to help,' the Doctor said, unrepentant. 'I doubt he'd have let you take him even if I'd said nothing.'

'Well, I don't agree with you,' Fletcher sneered, 'but, like I said, I don't give a damn. I just want to know what the hell you were doing talking to my boss. A civilian like you, especially a vacationer, has no business being in his office. What the hell did he want with you?'

'Oh well,' the Doctor said, wringing his hands and glancing skyward, 'this and that really. It was more me wanting to see him, to be honest. The subjects we discussed really wouldn't interest you, I'm sure.'

Fletcher glanced over at the Doctor's two friends. 'Is there somewhere we can talk in private?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'What you can say to me, you can say to Polly and Ben. They won't tell a soul, I promise you.'

Fletcher was unsure about how much trust to put in these strangers, but he felt so tired and miserable that a large part of him just didn't care. The key thing was that the Doctor spilled the beans on what was going on.

'So do continue,' the Doctor urged. 'Tell us what it is that's troubling you.'

Fletcher reached into a pocket, took out his cigarettes and lit one. 'It's Wallis. He's not right, you know? Putting me, his most trusted officer, in charge of goddamn traffic? I know he's upset by his son's death and all, but... well, between you and me, I don't think that's the root of the problem.'

'Oh?' The Doctor's interest seemed to have been piqued by Fletcher's last statement. 'Tell me more.'

Fletcher shrugged. 'Recently, he's been acting a little weird.

Arriving late for meetings when in twenty-five years he's never been late, ordering exhaustive investigations into really minor crimes. It's as if his mind's been on something else. And do you know what the weirdest thing is? All the time I've known him Wallis has been one of the most miserable bastards on the force, but in the last few months he's been damn happy the whole time.'

'Maybe he's fallen in love?' the girl called Polly suggested.

Fletcher burst out laughing. 'You've got to be kidding. Not the captain. He's married, adulterated and bigamised his way through enough women in the past, and never have any of them made him smile.'

'That's lovely to know,' the Doctor's friend Ben said, 'and I'm very pleased for the fella, but what's this got to do with the Doctor?'

'Ah, well, that's the question, isn't it? I saw you two coming out of Wallis's office this afternoon. I don't trust the Doctor one bit, and it's only since he showed up that Wallis started getting weird enough to transfer me. Coincidence? Probably, but I just had to know, just had to check what was going on.' Fletcher moved closer to Ben, lowering his voice to lend an air of intimidation to his words, 'I think I ought to warn you, I'm pretty sure your friend has got himself involved in a little conspiracy. Wallis is up to something, and it's pretty obvious that the Doctor is too.'

'Oh, don't mind me,' the Doctor said, looking around the room distractedly, 'I'm always up to something.'

'But what the hell were you up to in Wallis's office?'

The Doctor sighed melodramatically and rolled his eyes upwards. 'Oh, if you must know... Would you care to enlighten the detective, Ben?'

The Doctor's friend grinned. 'You know that murder, the Doctor's mate who snuffed it? Well, we went to see Wallis to find out how the investigation was going. Apparently they're closing the case. They know who the killer is, and he's died in some fire. They claim they've worked out the motive, too.'

'I know all this,' Fletcher said, exasperated. 'Until this afternoon I was the guy in charge of the case. Chate was a hitman for some two-bit Bugsy Siegel wannabe. Reitman owed the guy several K, wouldn't pay up, so Chate was asked to deal with him. Is that what Wallis told you too?'

'So tell me, Detective,' the Doctor piped up. 'What do you think of that as an explanation?'

Fletcher took one last long draw from his cigarette then threw it to the floor and trampled it into the hotel carpet. 'I don't know. I guess it's vaguely plausible, but I think if Chate was a hitman he'd have been a bit more professional than to leave his prints around.'

'And then go swanning off to a very public restaurant rather than lying low,' Polly pointed out.

'Yeah,' Fletcher nodded, 'but he was meeting someone.'

The Doctor looked intrigued. 'I'm sorry?'

'Some broad I spoke to after the shooting. She had only just met Chate that night and didn't know anything about Reitman, but he did tell her he was planning to meet some friends at a dive called the Moon Beam Bar.'

'I wonder,' the Doctor said, 'whether Chate had reasons other than socialising to go to that bar. Considering that he may have witnessed the murder the night before, or at least seen something, or may even have some involvement, there's a slight chance that his business in the bar might be connected to it. It's a tenuous lead, but one I really think we should explore.'

'I was with the unit that checked the bar for Chate,' Fletcher said. 'I went there before I came to the hospital. No one there had ever heard of him.'

'Still, I wouldn't mind making my own inquiries. No offence intended, Detective, but people sometimes reveal slightly more to fellow customers than they might to a policeman.'

Fletcher looked concerned. 'You know it was Wallis who found the item that linked Reitman to Chate? And it was Wallis who conducted the forensic test against the prints? If they were switched, then Wallis would have to be responsible.'

'Exactly,' the Doctor said with a smile. 'I'm sure Wallis framed Chate.'

Fletcher shook his head. 'I don't care a jack how much he hates him, surely he wouldn't have hauled his own kid up on a gas-chamber beef?'

'I'm sure most people wouldn't,'the Doctor said, 'but Wallis is definitely hiding something and, while he certainly seems to have been affected by Chate's death, I can't help thinking that his reactions aren't quite right for someone who is supposed to be in mourning.'

'But different people deal with death in different ways,' Polly said. 'Maybe he's just regretting not spending more time with his son.'

The Doctor looked thoughtful. 'Maybe, but something about all this doesn't feel right.'

'This better not be true,' Fletcher said angrily. 'If I've been fired for losing a guy who isn't even the goddamn murderer, by the goddamn guy who set him up... Doctor, you'd better pray that you're wrong or I'm going to be one nasty bastard.'

'There's more, you know,' sighed Ben. 'And you won't like it.'

Fletcher slumped down on a chair and put his head in his hands. 'Go on,' he said. 'Hit me.'

'Have you ever heard of an organisation called FOCAL?'

asked the Doctor.

Fletcher shook his head. 'Nope. Should I have done?'

'I'm not sure. FOCAL is the group that's inheriting all the money from Mr Reitman's death, and I have reason to believe that Captain Wallis may be a member of that group. Tell me, Detective, have you ever wondered why he wears that purple flower in his lapel?'

'Fashion, Doctor. Why else?'

'I suspect it's a FOCAL symbol. That's why it has to be a sign, a message to other members. You see, I don't think FOCAL is just a charity. It's almost impossible to locate it in telephone directories, and no one has heard of it. Even its address is only a post office box. Yes, I think the charity angle is a front, and in reality FOCAL is a secret society responsible for arranging Reitman's death in order to secure his fortune.

'Indeed, I've also learnt another very interesting piece of information. According to Reitman's lawyer, the only person other than him who was privy to the contents of Reitman's will before he died was a member of the general public who witnessed the signing of the will. A Mr C. Wallis.'

Fletcher let out a deep breath. 'So you're saying Wallis killed Reitman?'

The Doctor nodded.

'I need a drink,' Fletcher sighed.

'Pretty explosive stuff, don't you think?' the Doctor said with a grin.

'He's dead.'

Fletcher got up, looked around the room for alcohol of some kind, then realised there wasn't any in the place and began to head towards the door.

'He's damn well tried to screw my career, and he's the killer?' Fletcher could feel his heart pumping faster, the beating of Wallis's death drums. 'He'll pay for this,' he growled. 'He'll pay.'

The Doctor stood up and started wringing his hands. 'Now, Detective, don't do anything rash. I know you're angry, but there is a better way to get back at him than using physical violence.'

He reached for a newspaper and held it up, pointing to a small subheading on the front page that read MYSTERY MOVIE UNVEILED SOON.

'This film,' the Doctor said, 'is the twine that binds everything together. I observed the director of the picture, another advocate of rose-based fashion, speaking to Captain Wallis on the night of the restaurant shootings. I've been conducting an investigation into this film and I'm being drawn towards some disturbing conclusions, although as yet I have no evidence. I mentioned the film to Wallis today to see how he reacted, and I'm now more convinced than ever that he's up to his neck in this business. The film, Wallis, the Reitman murder.

They're all connected, and I believe the final step to solving this puzzle is to solve the mystery behind the film. Help me with my investigations, Detective. Work with me, not against me. I've a strong suspicion that you'll come across more than enough material to get back at Captain Wallis and regain your old posting.'

Maybe it was his tiredness, maybe it was just his curiosity, but for some reason Fletcher agreed with the Doctor's plan.

Dealing with Wallis could wait.

'Go on then,' he said with a sigh. 'How can I help?'

The Doctor shuffled over to a coffee table in the corner of the room and picked up a round silver disc that Fletcher soon realised was a film canister.

'I've obtained this,' the Doctor said. 'It's an extract of the film, or at least a partial extract. It's nothing special, but nevertheless I think there's more to it than is at first apparent. I need access to some equipment. Powerful microscopes, that sort of thing.'

'What makes you think I can get hold of those?'

The Doctor grinned. 'You're a policeman, aren't you? I'm sure you can take Ben and myself on a tour of your forensic labs. They should have everything I need down there.'

'I don't know,' Fletcher said, not at all happy about the Doctor's idea. 'I could be in major-league trouble if we get caught.'

The Doctor clapped his hands together excitedly. 'Then we'll just have to not get caught, won't we!'

'Shall I come?' Polly asked.

The Doctor shook his head. 'It's too dangerous, Polly. If we get caught in those labs there could be all sorts of trouble. You'd better stay here I think.'

Polly seemed to grudgingly accept the Doctor's words.

The Doctor tapped his wrist. 'Now come along, Detective.

Time is short, let's get to those labs.'

'What? Tonight?'

The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. 'What else did you think we were going to do? Go to the pictures?'

When the Doctor, Ben and Fletcher had left for the forensic labs, Polly wondered if the Doctor really expected her to wait in all night while they were off having fun. If so, he was mistaken.

After making sure she looked good enough to go out on the town, she scoured the newspaper for an article about the Silent Gold shootings that gave the address of the bar Chate had allegedly been heading to. Having left a note for the Doctor and Ben explaining where she had gone, she took a cab to the bar.

By the time she got there sky was black. The street lighting in the area was extremely poor which made her feel rather exposed and nervous. The outside of the bar looked rather tatty and she hoped that the inside would be classier. She could hear laughter coming from within.

Polly took a deep breath, barged past a bored-looking bouncer and found herself in an unremarkable room crowded with people sipping drinks, playing cards and listening to old blues records that played lazily in the background. She noticed a few men glancing at her and smiling lecherously as she walked past perhaps she'd put on a little too much make-up but none of them seemed intimidating. From the look of the people she'd seen, she'd be safe here.

'Rum and Coke please,' she said to the barman. The man poured her a drink and she perched on a stool in front of him.

'Busy night tonight,' she commented, but he wasn't interested in small talk. He smiled at her, then moved on to serve the next customer. When he had done so, Polly gestured and managed to attract his attention.

'I was wondering something.' She rummaged in her handbag for the picture of Chate she'd found in a newspaper, then held it up and cleared her throat. She had always wanted to say this.

'Have you seen this man?'

The barman grinned and nodded his head. 'Yeah, course I have. Saw him today, in fact.'

Polly was sure he had made a mistake. How could he have seen Chate today? 'Blond hair, about six foot, late twenties?'

'Yeah,' said the barman. 'That's the one.'

Polly shook her head. 'But you can't have seen him today.

He's dead.'

The barman burst out laughing. 'Oh is he now? Well, he's certainly been ordering a lot of drinks for a dead guy.' He leant across the bar and stared across the room. 'Nope, he looks very much alive to me.'

'What do you mean?' Polly asked, turning to follow his gaze.

And there he was, exactly as the Doctor had described him.

Robert Chate. Alive and well.

'Thank you,' Polly told the barman. 'You've been a great help.'

She walked over to a booth at the back of the bar where a stylish-looking couple were sitting next to each other, laughing and chatting as they drank. As she got to her table she saw the couple up close and was amazed by the sheer glamour they seemed to posses. The man had perfect blond hair, impenetrable brown eyes and perfect skin, toned cheekbones and an immaculate smile. The woman could have been his female counterpart, though in her case her hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders and her eyes were an icy blue. The couple looked awe-inspiring. They looked like movie stars.