This case was not quite as glamorous as it sounds, but it does illustrate that sometimes the fairer sex can provide something unique: a woman's intuition. You don't learn that at detective school. Although I would undoubtedly have solved the case entirely by myself, Alison's involvement certainly speeded it to its conclusion. It began, as these things do, with me buzzing another unlikely-looking customer into No Alibis. I had taken to keeping the door locked when I was alone in the shop; it just allowed me a few seconds to take a good look at whoever wanted in, in case they were of an unsavoury type: an obvious drunk, a begging Romanian or anyone in Nazi regalia. I am a good judge of character (perhaps that is one reason why I despise myself) and on this occasion the man pressing the buzzer appeared harmless enough. He looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties, in a banker's suit and carrying a considerable amount of weight. His cheeks were flushed from walking and his black hair sat damp against his forehead.
