“Have a muffin,” said Tommy kindly.
“Not at eleven o’clock in the morning, thank you. Silly case, this. Boots—you know—Why boots?”
“Well,” said Tommy, “why not?”
“It doesn’t fit. Boots.” She shook her head. “All wrong. Who wants other people’s boots? The whole thing’s mad.”
“Perhaps they got hold of the wrong bag?” suggested Tommy.
“That’s possible. But if they were after papers, a despatch case would be more likely. Papers are the only things one thinks of in connection with ambassadors.”
“Boots suggest footprints,” said Tommy thoughtfully. “Do you think they wanted to lay a trail of Wilmott’s footsteps somewhere?”
Tuppence considered the suggestion, abandoning her role, then shook her head.
“It seems wildly impossible,” she said. “No, I believe we shall have to resign ourselves to the fact that