Still, she reflected, if she did call him, it would indicate that she cared for Rake more than she cared to admit. And that would put her at a disadvantage next time they met.
She was still weighing up the options when the 'phone rang. The blonde snatched up the reciever, adopting a pose of langour.
"Hi-ya..." the blonde sighed, voice low and husky.
"Ms. Madison," the Green Man's voice was urgent. "you are going to Mainstone Hall, Suffolk. You will leave Liverpool Street Station at two."
"But I was waiting for Mike - Mr. Rake!" she protested.
"Wait no more, Ms. Madison," the Green Man went on. "Rake will arrive at Mainstone Hall tomorrow, if you so wish."
"Thank you," Ms. Madison sighed. "I guess it's another houseparty. What is it this time? I can't imagine Lord Ambrose Vaughan's a villain."
"Nor I," the Green Man nodded. "But Lord Ambrose has been called away. The matter concerns one of his guests, Mr. Robert Matthew-Henry. I have my suspicions about him. I think he once went by another name. Charles Peake."
"The London gangster who drowned two years ago?" Ms. Madison gasped. "I'll be there!"
She picked up her suitcase from left luggage at the station, her usual practice, and boarded a train to Ipswich, where she was met by a Rolls-Royce bearing Lord Ambrose's coat of arms.