Not ancient Greek, which I'd understand like a newly-minted curate, but an illiterate's patois from the steps of the Acropolis. 'A brandy?'

She looked confused. I empathised. I often hear N speak and feel as baffled as a litterateur listening to a football commentary. In Greek.

'From Paris actually.' N raised a palm in my face.'Hold the undertakers! We have a veritable Lazarus in our midst!Have you word from Pluto?'

'Are you sure that's necessary?' I asked.'I'd kill for a ham sandwich,' the girl snapped. N looked at her in disbelief.'Back from the dead?'

'Call Hodgson and Sons,'N instructed,'If I've learned anything in all my years as a detective it's that you can't have corpses lying around'

'Just as I suspected,' N nodded. 'Dead already. Nothing we can do to help her. Murdered, no doubt.' As he spoke the girl opened her eyes.

'She's either sleeping or fainted,'I observed, moving closer.The girl was stiller than a learner driver stuck in neutral.'Or possibly dead!'

'My father was a doctor.I'm not.''You must have picked something up at the dinner table?'I approached.She was strikingly beautiful.And inert

N caught her and laid her on the chaise. 'Diorella!' he remarked, sniffing the air. 'Your father was a quack, what's wrong with her? Quick!'

He grabbed the handle and pulled with a flourish. A woman fell through the open door, her brown hair tumbling as she moaned 'Au secours!'

'Cowards die many times before their deaths,'quoth I.'Indeed?'N snarled as he walked to the door,'Then you must have more lives than a cat!'

We stared at each other,wondering what the other meant.Luckily there was a tap on the door.'Remember your position.We will continue later'

'Surrender whilst you are still four-limbed,'I advised.'Never!'my adversary barked.'Then you leave me no option!''Nor you I,'N retorted

Seconds later he had me in a headlock. 'Oh for a dagger to perform the coup de grace,' he lamented. A cunning elbow and I was free. 'Hah!'

We wrestled like gladiators, albeit gladiators so inept that they aren't allowed weapons. At one point I had him in a glorious head-lock.

I leapt up quicker than Usain Bolt after a caffe ristretto.N bayed as I dashed the Jasperware from his grasp.'Your coup de main has failed!'

'That makes no sense'I snorted.His hand found an old blue and white Wedgwood vase,full of months-old stems.It would cause more than a bruise

'You fustilarian!' N exclaimed, looking about his desk for something to throw. 'Do not judge another by your own toweringly low standards!'

I hardly need add she is left-handed, wears Dior perfume, speaks French and has a slight lisp.' He lent back. 'You mean you've got no idea.'

'I could tell at a glance it was from a lady.Age, mid-thirties. Brunette,no doubt,fitness fanatic, probably. Definitely in fear of her life.