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Peter Lovesey

The invitation dropped on the doormat of The Laurelsalong with a bank statement and a Guide Dogs for the Blind appeal. It was in a cream-coloured envelope made from thick, expensive-looking paper. Duncan left it to open after the others. His custom was to leave the most promising letters while he worked steadily through the others, using a paper knife that cut the envelopes tidily. Eventually he took out a gold-edged card with his name inscribed in the centre in fine italic script. It read:

The most perfect club in the world

has the good sense to invite

Mr. Duncan Driffield

a proven perfectionist

to be an honoured guest at its biannual dinner

Friday, January 31st, 7:30 for 8pm

Contact will be made later

He was wary. This could be an elaborate marketing ploy. In the past he’d been invited-by motor dealers and furniture retailers-to parties that had turned out to be sales pitches, nothing more. Just because no product or company was mentioned, he wasn’t going to be taken in. He read the invitation through several times. It has to be said, he liked the designation "a proven perfectionist. " Couldn’t fault their research. He was a Virgo-orderly, a striver for perfection. To see this written down as if he’d already achieved the ideal was especially pleasing. And to see his name in such elegant script was another fine touch.

Yet it troubled him that the club was not named. Nor was there an address, nor any mention of where the function was to be held. Being a thorough and cautious man, he would normally have looked these things up before deciding what to do about the invitation.

The phone call came about 8:30 the next evening. A voice that didn’t need to announce it had been to a very good school spoke his name.

"Yes?"

"You received an invitation to the dinner on January 31st, I trust?"

"Which invitation was that?" Duncan said as if he received invitations by every post.

"A gold-edged card naming you a proven perfectionist. May we take it that you will accept?"

"Who are you, exactly?"

"A group of like-minded people. We know you’ll fit in. "

"Is there some mystery about it? I don’t wish to join the Freemasons.

"We’re not Freemasons, Mr. Driffield. "

"How did you get my name?"

"It was put to the committee. You were the outstanding candidate. "

"Really?" He glowed inwardly before his level-headedness returned.

"Is there any obligation?"

"You mean are we trying to sell something? Absolutely not. "

"I don’t have to make a speech?"

"We don’t go in for speeches. It isn’t like that at all. We’ll do everything possible to welcome you and make you feel relaxed. Transport is provided. "

"Are you willing to tell me your name?"

"Of course. It’s David Hopkins. I do hope you’re going to say yes. "

Why not, he thought. "All right, Mr. Hopkins. "

"Excellent. I’m sure if I ask you to be ready at 6:30, that as a proven perfectionist, you will be-to the minute. In case you were wondering, it’s a dinner jacket and black tie affair. I’ll come for you myself. The drive takes nearly an hour at that time of day, I’m afraid. And it’s Dr. Hopkins actually, but please call me David. "