Peale, when he first spotted them in their navy Bermuda shorts and pale blue linen shirts, thought that they should have been given a loud fanfare of the Stars and Stripes to greet them. Probably in his late thirties, the first face round the door was plump, tanned, with full pale blue eyes, dimpled and smiling with bleached blond hair. His friend was tall and skinny, with a sleek brown crop of hair, sharp bony features, a clipped narrow moustache, a small van dyke beard and busy, intelligent brown eyes. Peale came forward quickly to greet them with a smile. “Sorry to ask you to come in so late in the day, sirs.” The Americans smiled, pulled out two chairs and sat down. He glanced at his watch. The door opened again and Fowler came in as if on cue and joined them. He welcomed the two Americans with a smile. “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Fowler. This is Detective Sergeant Peale. And you are?” “Cole Hamilton, sir,” said the thin man leaning forward in the chair, “and this is Charlie Stein, my partner.
