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I understand now.’ Any gardener knew that that was something quite different too. ‘Right, sir. I’ve got that. Greenhouse doors at the nursery.’
    ‘Left open overnight, or,’ Leeyes added ominously, ‘deliberately opened during the hours of darkness.’
    ‘I understand.’ Sloan nodded, tacitly agreeing that this was different too. There was another distinction, as well, one between criminal activity that took place in the hours of darkness as opposed to in daylight – a distinction that went back to what was engagingly known as ‘time out of mind’ – but was still important in law.
    ‘When no one was supposed to be there anyway,’ amplified Leeyes, adding the automatic caveat, policeman that he was, ‘or so the owner says.’
    ‘I see, sir.’ Because Sloan was an off-duty gardener himself he was beginning to be aware where this might be leading. ‘And, of course, there was quite a frost last night …’ He knew this because he’d only just pruned his own floribunda roses and when he had woken in the morning he had seen the hoary ground. He had hoped, then, that he hadn’t done it too late in the season and wondered, as he did every year, whether he should have done the job in the autumn instead. Horticultural opinion was divided but ‘the later the pruning the bigger the bush’ was something on which everyone was agreed.
    ‘There was. A really heavy one, too, for early March.’ Superintendent Leeyes grunted and consulted the message sheet again. ‘He says that Russell Aqueel – he’s their foreman out there – came on as usual this morning at seven o’clock and found one entire greenhouse fullof baby orchids and another one of young other plants killed off.’
    ‘Not good, sir,’ agreed Sloan. Nothing might have been stolen but even so there was undoubtedly loss involved. Heavy loss, certainly: crime, as well, if there had been a break-in. It was too soon to say. ‘Were the doors usually locked? Or, rather, had they been locked last night?’
    ‘You don’t lock greenhouses,’ said the superintendent irritably.
    Detective Inspector Sloan forbore to say that you did if they contained valuable plants. He said instead, ‘I’d heard that Jack had some young orchids that he’s been growing out there. He’s a bit of a specialist in them. Are they all right?’
    ‘No, they’re not,’ Leeyes came back quickly. ‘And judging from his present state of mind I should think he’s pretty well lost the lot.’
    ‘That’s bad,’ said Sloan. ‘They must have been worth a packet.’ He looked up and asked, ‘Is Jack Haines talking about malice aforethought?’
    ‘Jack Haines,’ came back the superintendent impressively, ‘is talking about sabotage. You’d better get out there and see him, pronto. And you can take that dim-witted constable, Crosby, with you. We may be short-staffed but I still don’t want him here all day upsetting the civilian staff.’
    ‘No, sir, of course not,’ Sloan hastily agreed with this sentiment. Both men knew without saying that the superintendent was referring to Mrs Mabel Murgatroyd, the civilian staff supervisor, a lady of a certain age who took the view that uniformed policemen were an illiteratebunch who got in the way of the important work of the clerical staff.
    When told about it, Detective Constable Crosby viewed the prospect of a journey far out into the hinterland with evident pleasure. Detective Inspector Sloan locked the seat belt of the police car into place with markedly less enthusiasm.
    ‘There is no hurry, Crosby,’ he said as the car took off at speed. ‘The missing person hasn’t been seen for three weeks and wilted plants don’t run away. We’ll go to the nursery first while any evidence that there might be there is still fresh.’
    ‘Nobody dead, then?’ said the constable.
    ‘Not yet,’ said Sloan dryly, averting his eyes from a near miss with a refuse lorry, all public service vehicles being anathema to the constable. ‘It