Letting himself into the house, he went through to the scullery, gathered up some lettuce and let himself out into the garden. Ready as he was for breakfast, he had to feed his rabbits first. They brought him a companionship he could never get from a human being so he always treated them with the greatest care. Liddle reached the hutch and unlocked the door, only to recoil in horror.

His beloved rabbits were no longer there.

They met at the local police station which had become their unofficial headquarters during the investigation. Keedy was interested to hear about the offer to pay the funeral expenses of the five victims, especially in view of the categorical way in which the works manager had refused even to consider the idea of paying any compensation to the female munition workers for the way that they changed colour and suffered ill health. He was also intrigued to learn more about the ladies’ football team and how much it had improved during its relatively short existence. Neil Beresford, he agreed, must be a truly outstanding coach. When he heard Keedy’s report, Marmion was intrigued to hear the latest revelation.

‘I knew that you’d winkle something out of Maureen,’ he said.

‘Some of the thanks must go to Father Cleary,’ Keedy pointed out. ‘He told me a great deal about the Quinn family and helped me to understand Maureen a little more. This news about Enid Jenks gives us another possible suspect.’

‘He may be more than that, Joe. If he works at the factory, the likelihood is that he’s capable of making explosives. Alan Suggs clearly wasn’t. That makes this chap — Herbert Wylie, was it? — sound much more promising.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘So much for Jenks’s claim that his daughter was never interested in boyfriends. I saw the photo of her. Enid was gorgeous. They must have come after her in swarms.’

‘Wylie was only her boyfriend momentarily, Harv,’ said Keedy. ‘After one night out together, she never wanted to see him again. He changed from a friend into a stalker. Wylie seems to have dogged her wherever she went.’

‘We need to speak to him as soon as possible.’

The room they were using was cold and cramped but it did have a telephone. Marmion snatched it up from the desk. He was soon talking to Bernard Kennett once again. When he rang off, he replaced the receiver.

‘He’s going to find out if Wylie clocked in this morning,’ he said. ‘If he did, we’ll go straight over there and haul him out of the Cartridge Section.’

‘It could be another false hope,’ warned Keedy.

Marmion was more optimistic. ‘I’m starting to feel that we may be on to something, Joe.’

‘Enid Jenks obviously had a torrid time with this chap.’

‘It’s that threat to kill her that interests me.’

‘Even the most tenacious unwanted admirer gives up after a while. Not in this case,’ noted Keedy. ‘It became an obsession with Wylie and we know the kind of extremes that that can drive people to. On the other hand,’ he continued, ‘I’m not getting too excited. He sounds like our man but, then, so did Alan Suggs.’

‘He was a different kettle of fish altogether. Suggs was no unwanted admirer. According to him, he was wanted by dozens of women at the factory. They were queuing up to go out with him, apparently.’

‘Well, he won’t be able to entice any of them into that outhouse again.’

They chatted for a few minutes until the telephone rang. Marmion took the call and nodded away as he listened. He then wrote something down in his notebook. After thanking the works manager, he put down the receiver and turned to Keedy.

‘Well, well, well,’ he said.

‘What did Mr Kennett say?’

‘Supposing that you’d planted that bomb, Joe. When it went off, what would you do next?’

‘I’d run like hell,’ replied Keedy.

‘It looks as if Wylie did the same. He hasn’t been at work since the night of the explosion.’ Marmion tapped his notebook. ‘I’ve got his address here. Let’s pay a visit and see if he’s hiding under the bed.’

Diane Quinn was increasingly worried about her daughter. Maureen was somnolent, withdrawn and looking distinctly unwell. Whenever her mother suggested calling a doctor, however, she insisted that there was nothing wrong with her. She just wished to be left alone. Diane couldn’t even prise out of her the details of her conversation with Joe Keedy. Once the detective had left, Maureen had effectively clammed up. Diane was preparing lunch when she heard the door knocker. Fearing that it might be some more reporters, she went to the door with trepidation. When she opened it, however, she was astonished to see that her visitor was Sadie Radcliffe. They embraced impulsively, then Diane brought her into the house and took her into the living room. They stayed in each other’s arms for minutes. Sadie then broke away.

‘I came to apologise,’ she said.

‘There’s nothing to apologise for,’ insisted Diane.

‘Yes, there is and that’s why I had to come. I was so shocked by what happened that I lashed out in all directions. I said things about Maureen that …’ she paused in order to dab at moist eyes with a handkerchief ‘… that I regret very much. Instead of moaning because she survived when Agnes died, I should be sharing your relief. Maureen is a lovely girl. She was a good friend to my daughter.’

‘She loved Agnes. They got on so well together.’

‘That’s what I should have remembered, Di.’

‘Sit down,’ invited Diane, easing her onto the settee and sitting beside her. ‘I wanted to come and see you but the truth is that … Eamonn thought it best not to.’

‘He was right. I was in a terrible mood when I first heard. I’m ashamed of what I said. And I was even ruder when you called on me, Di.’

‘That’s all in the past. No need even to think about it again.’ Diane looked at the grief burnt into the other woman’s face. ‘It must be unbearable for you.’

‘I’ll get by. It’s Terry I feel sorry for, not myself. He’ll have heard by now. They sent a telegram.’

‘Is there any chance that they’ll let him come back for the funeral?’

‘I don’t think the army does things like that. But I’m glad you mentioned the funeral. It’s something I wanted to discuss with you.’

She told Diane about the offer made by the factory and how it had thrown her into confusion. Annoyed at first that they should even think of trying to take over something as private as a family funeral, she’d come to see that there was some worth in the gesture. It would enable her daughter’s remains to be buried alongside those of her friends. She believed that that was what Agnes would have wanted.

‘What would you do, Di?’ she asked. ‘If it was Maureen, I mean.’

‘I wouldn’t make the decision — Eamonn would.’

‘And what would he say?’

‘I think he’d look for the advantages,’ said Diane. ‘If someone else was paying and taking over the arrangements, he’d think it was a load off his back.’

‘But would he want to share the actual burial?’

‘He might — but, then again, he might not. Eamonn is funny sometimes.’

‘I’ve no idea what the other families think about it. I wish I did. What I really came for was to ask Maureen’s opinion. She knew all the parents.’

A voice piped up behind them. ‘What did you want to ask me, Mrs Radcliffe?’

They turned to see Maureen standing in the doorway. Sadie’s response was to leap to her feet and wrap her arms around her with an amalgam of fondness and remorse. Maureen was perplexed. Agnes’s mother had never been quite so demonstrative before. Diane explained about the offer from the factory management. All three of them sat down to talk about it.

‘What do you think the other families will do, Maureen?’ asked Sadie.

Maureen shook her head. ‘I can’t really say.’

‘Put yourself in their shoes.’

‘I don’t know that I can, Mrs Radcliffe.’

‘Just try,’ urged her mother. ‘How will Florrie’s parents react, for instance?’