Shaw, who conducted them out, confirmed that no discrepancies had been found in Caius Droudge’s account of a night’s muffled sleep with cotton in his ears – ‘Not that that means he didn’t sneak out in his bedsocks an’ kill a dozen men an’ eat ’em, too . . .’ – and that the blowzy Señora Alcidoro maintained her story of an all-night cribbage session with Uncle Diogenes.‘It’s perfectly possible he was up all night – er – playing cribbage with someone else, you know,’ Hannibal remarked as they emerged from the iron-strapped doors of the Cabildo. ‘Another patron of La Sirène’s, whose family would be horrified at his tastes and friendships. In which case we’ll probably never know who—’In the banded shadows of the arcade, January caught sight of the disreputable Mr Chaffinch – glorious in a mustard-colored coat and houndstooth trousers – approaching, with Mr Droudge shambling behind. At least this time he bore a basket of food for the prisoner in his hand; the slender rations dished up to the prisoners in the cells were beyond execrable.
