4.30am ... but no Spacey

It is 4.30 in the morning, a time when most decent folk should still be in bed, and indeed this morning they are.

The only sign of life in Geraldine Mary Harmsworth Park is the sound of the birds working up a head of steam for their morning chorus, and the occasional car driving past: the park itself is deserted.

No matter how hard I looked there simply were not any Hollywood stars out there walking their dogs. Which was a pity because from what one can gather Kevin Spacey - the Oscar-winning star of American Beauty - seems to be in the habit of walking his dog in this park at 4.30 in the morning, and I was hoping to bump into him.

I have long been an admirer of Mr Spacey - wasn't he marvellous in The Usual Suspects? - and it would have been a wonderful opportunity for a chat about his own favourite performances.

Mr Spacey might even have been able to clear up the confusion about what he was doing in the Kennington park on Saturday morning, and whether he was mugged (as he first told police), not mugged (when he retracted his original statement) or simply conned out of his mobile phone by "this kid" (as he later told Radio 4's Today programme).

Now, there has been a lot of speculation about why Mr Spacey should be out and about at such a time , and I would not like to add to such uninformed talk. But, having sampled the delights of Geraldine Mary Harmsworth Park in the small hours, it does strike me as a slightly eccentric thing to do.

Now, don't get me wrong. The park - home of the Imperial War Museum - has its charms. The blossom is out now and hanging baskets are suspended from the lampposts. But blossom is not at its best at

4.30am. So what WAS he doing there?

The children's playground? Not really: Mr Spacey seems a bit big for swings. There is always the museum. It is closed at night, but insomniacs can still admire the 15-inch British naval guns at the main entrance.

Mr Spacey, who said he cut his head when he ran after the youth who took his phone (after a "sob story" about phoning his mother) and tripped over his dog, admitted people might wonder what he was doing in the park. His explanation? "My doggy had to go!"

Well, when a doggy has to go he has to go, but I have to report that Mr Spacey's dog did not have to go this morning. Neither, indeed, did any of the other dogs of Kennington. At 4.30, the park was a dog-free zone.

In fact, it was a completely people-free zone. There were no muggers, no suspicious youths: even the excitable tabloid newspaper which today suggested the park was a well-known haunt of cottagers seemed way off the mark. If there are any cottagers who go there, they all seemed to have gone home by the time Mr Spacey was out walking Rover.

Indeed, the only human activity came 20 minutes later, when two men walked by along Lambeth Road. Wilmer, from Colombia, and José¬ from Portugal, were office cleaners on their way to work. Did they ever come across film stars walking dogs at that early hour?

Wilmer looked at José® José ¬ooked at Wilmer. They burst out laughing, and were still laughing as they walked up the road.