'Yes,' said Giles, 'but you can only play them at weekends. If you're caught listening after lights out or during the week, they get confiscated.'
'I'll see what I can do. Will you be coming home on your birthday?'
'Yes, but only for tea. I have to be back at school in time for prep.'
Then I'll try and drop in,' said Hugo. I'll be off now. I want a word with Matron before I leave.'
'Don't forget to ask her if she'll let me out on Saturday morning,' Giles reminded him as his father left the room to carry out the real purpose of his visit.
'I'm so glad you were able to drop by, Mr Barrington. It will perk Giles up no end,' said Matron as he walked into her office. 'But as you can see, he's almost fully recovered.'
'Yes, and he's hoping you'll let him out on Saturday morning so he can play in a football match.'
'I'm sure that will be possible,' said Matron. 'But you said there was something else you wanted to talk about?'
'Yes, Matron. As you know, Giles is colour-blind. I just wanted to ask if it was causing him any difficulties.'
'Not that I'm aware of,' said Matron. 'If it is, it certainly doesn't stop him hitting a red ball across a green field until it reaches a white boundary.'
Barrington laughed before he delivered his next well-prepared line. 'When I was at St Bede's, I used to be teased because I was the only boy who suffered from colour-blindness.'
'Let me assure you,' said Matron, 'no one teases Giles. And in any case, his best friend is also colour-blind.'
Hugo drove back to his office thinking that something had to be done before the situation got out of control. He decided to have another word with Colonel Danvers.
Once he was back behind his desk, he told Miss Potts he didn't want to be disturbed. He waited until she'd closed the door before he picked up the telephone. A few moments later the chief constable was on the line.
'It's Hugo Barrington, Colonel.'
'How are you, my boy?' asked the chief constable.
'I'm well, sir. I was wondering if you could advise me on a private matter.'
'Fire away, old fellow.'
'I'm looking for a new head of security, and I wondered if you might be able to point me in the right direction.'
'As a matter of fact I do know a man who might fit the bill, but I'm not sure if he's still available. I'll find out and give you a call back.'
The chief constable was as good as his word, and phoned back the following morning. 'The man I had in mind has a part-time job at the moment, but he's looking for something more permanent.'
'What can you tell me about him?' asked Hugo.
'He was being groomed for higher things in the force, but he had to leave when he was badly injured trying to apprehend a robber during a raid on the Midland Bank. You probably remember the story. It even hit the national press. In my opinion, he'd be the ideal candidate to head your security team, and frankly you'd be lucky to get him. If you're still interested, I could drop you a line with his details.'
Barrington rang Derek Mitchell from his home, as he didn't want Miss Potts to find out what he was up to. He agreed to meet the former policeman at the Royal Hotel at six o'clock on Monday evening, after Mrs Clifton would have left for the day and the Palm Court would be empty.
Hugo arrived a few minutes early and headed straight for a table at the far end of the room that he wouldn't normally have considered. He took a seat behind the pillar, where he knew his meeting with Mitchell would not be seen or overheard. While he waited, he went over a list of questions in his mind that needed answering if he was going to put his trust in a complete stranger.
At three minutes to six, a tall, well-built man of military bearing pushed his way through the revolving doors. His dark navy blazer, grey flannels, short hair and highly polished shoes all suggested a life of discipline.
Hugo stood and raised a hand as if he was summoning a waiter. Mitchell walked slowly across the room, making no attempt to disguise a slight limp, an injury which, according to Danvers, was the reason Mitchell had been invalided out of the police service.
Hugo recalled the last occasion he'd come face to face with a police officer, but this time he would be asking the questions.
'Good evening, sir.'
'Good evening, Mitchell,' said Hugo as they shook hands. Once Mitchell had sat down, Hugo took a closer look at his broken nose and cauliflower ears, and also recalled from Colonel Danvers's notes that he used to play in the second row for Bristol.
'Let me say from the outset, Mitchell,' said Hugo, not wasting any time, 'that what I want to discuss with you is of a highly confidential nature, and must be kept strictly between the two of us.' Mitchell nodded. 'It is so confidential, in fact, that even Colonel Danvers has no idea of the real reason I needed to see you, as I am certainly not looking for someone to head up my security operation.'
Mitchell's face remained inscrutable as he waited to hear what Hugo had in mind.
'I am looking for someone to act as a private detective. His sole purpose will be to report to me each month on the activities of a woman who lives in this city, and in fact works in this hotel.'
'I understand, sir.'
'I want to know everything she gets up to, whether professional or personal, however insignificant it might seem. She must never, I repeat, never, become aware of your interest in her. So before I reveal her name, do you consider yourself capable of carrying out such an assignment?'
'These things are never easy,' said Mitchell, 'but they're not impossible. As a young detective sergeant, I worked on an undercover operation which resulted in a particularly loathsome individual ending up behind bars for sixteen years. If he were to walk into this hotel now, I'm confident he wouldn't recognize me.'
Hugo smiled for the first time. 'Before I go any further,' he continued, 'I need to know if you would be willing to take on such an assignment?'
'That would depend on several things, sir.'
'Such as?'
'Would it be a full-time position, because I currently have a night security job, working for a bank.'
'Hand in your notice tomorrow,' said Hugo. 'I don't want you to be working for anyone else.'
'And what are the hours?'
'At your discretion.'
'And my salary?'
'I will pay you eight pounds a week, a month in advance, and will also cover any legitimate expenses.'
Mitchell nodded. 'May I suggest you make any payments in cash, sir, so that nothing can be traced back to you?'
'That seems sensible,' said Hugo, who'd already made that decision.
'And would you want the monthly reports to be in writing, or in person?'
'In person. I want as little committed to paper as possible.'
'Then we should always meet at a different location and never on the same day of the week. That way it would be unlikely that anyone would come across us more than once.'
'I have no problem with that,' said Hugo.
'When would you want me to start, sir?'
'You started half an hour ago,' said Barrington. He removed a slip of paper and an envelope containing PS32 from an inside pocket and handed them to Mitchell.