Temple : I say Steve – this really is a splendid restaurant.

Steve : I knew you’d like it. They serve very large portions.

Steve : I say Paul, there’s a man over there who has been staring at us ever since we arrived.

Temple : Yes I’d noticed him. Mind you, you’d be hard pressed not to. He obviously enjoys the very large portions too.

Steve : Why don’t you go over and see what he wants. He’s probably just a fan of your novels.

Temple : That’s a very good idea, Steve.

Ian Devine : (munch chomp munch swallow)

Temple : By Timothy, do we know each other?

Ian Devine : (munch chomp swallow) Alas not. My name is Ian Devine, you may have heard of me?

Temple : I don’t believe so.

Ian Devine : As unlikely as that is, that wasn’t why I wanted to see you.

Temple : Why did you want to see me?

Ian Devine : I need your assistance. Your professional assistance.

Temple : I’m just here to have a quiet little dinner with my wife. If you require a detective I suggest you go to see Sir Graham Forbes at Scotland Yard.

Ian Devine : But I have especially chosen you. Out of the pantheon of detectives, you are by far the most sensible. The modern detective has a regional accent and m-a-r-i-t-a-l difficulties. So I decided that I would seek out a sensible radio detective from the 1950s who is married to a jolly sensible woman and dines at generous restaurants like this.

Temple : That’s all very flattering, Mr Devine, but I really don’t see what I can do for you.

Ian Devine : Let me explain. I have a friend called… I have an acquaintance called Dennis Brent. You won’t have heard of him as he is only a very minor writer. Barely even a writer. I call him a pompous hack although not to his face as he is my friend… acquaintance.

Temple : Please, Mr Devine, my dessert is getting cold.

Ian Devine : Nonsense. My records indicate that you have precisely twenty one minutes and eight seconds in which the dessert you have ordered remains at its peak. Thereafter, if you have no need of it, I would be pleased to take it off your hands and no extra charge. To return to my story, my acquaintance has disappeared.

Temple : I’m not really in the business of finding lost acquaintances. I don’t get out of bed for any less than a fascinating murder. Now if you’ll excuse me…

Ian Devine : Nonsense – you took the Conrad Case when it was merely a missing person. And the Van D-y-k-e Affair was only a missing baby – not even a proper person.

Temple : You are obviously a man who reads the papers. Yes I was involved in both of those cases but they became murder investigations.

Ian Devine : If you knew my acquaintance, Dennis Brent, you’d know that if anyone has abducted him, they’ll pretty soon get to the stage where they’ll murder him. I’m frequently tempted myself…

Temple : Were you responsible for his disappearance?

Ian Devine : I? Certainly not. Cubs honour.

Temple : Why don’t you join us for dessert and you can explain the circumstances which lead up to your friend’s disappearance.

Ian Devine : He’s only an acquaintance – we have separate bedrooms and never the twain shall meet.

Steve : Who is this, darling?

Ian Devine : I believe he is your husband, Mrs Temple.

Steve : I was talking to my husband.

Temple : This is Mr Devine – he claims to be a writer of some sorts – and he wants to report a missing person.

Steve : Did you tell him we were in the middle of dinner?

Temple : I think he gathered that when he wolfed down my dessert.

Ian Devine : Force of habit, I apologise.

Temple : Steve was telling me I ought to lose weight anyway.

Ian Devine : Richly comic, Paul Temple.

Temple : Now, you were going to explain how your acquaintance came to disappear.

Ian Devine : Well, we were in the middle of cataloguing some old Radio Times cuttings down in Dennis Brent’s basement when his telephone rang. He answered it in a prompt and efficient manner, which is to his credit, and told me that it was someone calling himself "Alan". The message was that Dennis Brent should go and meet Alan by the statue of Philip Schofield in south central Bendaton where he would learn something to his advantage. I generously offered to accompany Dennis Brent but he said that he would prefer to go himself lest he accidentally share something advantageous with me. I understood his position entirely. It was the sensible thing to do. I did endeavour to follow him but I became wedged and he out distanced me by some twenty minutes.

Temple : Did he know anyone called Alan?

Ian Devine : I am not familiar with the men that Dennis Brent chooses to spend his leisure time with.

Temple : Did he return from this rendez vous with Alan?

Ian Devine : He didn’t.

Temple : And when was this?

Ian Devine : A week last Thursday.

Temple : Why has it taken you so long to get help?

Ian Devine : You don’t appear to be much of a detective. As I previously mentioned, I became wedged.

Temple : For over a week?

Ian Devine : Normally Dennis Brent would pull me until I came free but he was not around. That is what alerted me to his disappearance. I tried to pull myself but the end result was not satisfactory. Fortunately, this is an excellent restaurant and I am quickly regaining my strength.

Temple : Does Mr Brent have any enemies?

Ian Devine : Certain of the more childish proles take offence to his rather disagreeable personality.

Temple : I tell you what I’ll do, Mr Devine, I have a contract to write three novels and two short story collections by next month but I’ll come down to Bendaton and see if I can solve the Dennis Affair.

Ian Devine : That sounds rather irresponsible – a publishing contract is a publishing contract…

Temple : Nevertheless, you’ve interested me, Mr Devine.

Steve : Oh no! Here we go again!

Waiter : Excuse me sir, there is a telephone call for Mr Devine.

Ian Devine : Did they give their name?

Waiter : This is the cliffhanger, sir, of course he gave his name. He said his name was Alan…