‘I fancy they’d be against it,’ said Maureen. ‘They’re nice people but Mr Ingles does give himself airs and graces sometimes. Florrie used to tease him about it. Because he earns a lot of money, he thinks that he’s above most people. My guess is that he wouldn’t want to share anything.’

‘What about Jean’s family — or Enid’s — or Shirley’s?’

‘I really don’t know,’ replied her daughter in obvious discomfort. ‘To be honest, it’s something I’d rather not discuss.’

‘I don’t have that luxury,’ said Sadie. ‘They want an answer fairly soon.’

‘Why not contact one of the other families?’ suggested Diane.

‘I don’t really know them.’

‘You’re Agnes’s mother. They’re bound to be sympathetic.’

‘I was hoping that Maureen might help out.’

Maureen tensed. ‘What can I possibly do?’

‘Well, you’ve met them all and been to their houses. I wondered if you’d be kind enough to come with me if I caught the train to Hayes. I’m sure that you’d like to express your condolences to them, in any case,’ Sadie went on. ‘You can introduce me and I can ask about that letter from Mr Kennett.’

‘Yes,’ said Diane, ‘you could do that, Maureen, couldn’t you?’

‘No,’ said her daughter, flatly.

‘But it would be such a help to Mrs Radcliffe.’

‘It would,’ endorsed Sadie. ‘I’d be ever so grateful.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Maureen, jumping to her feet, ‘but I just can’t do it. You’ll have to find someone else, Mrs Radcliffe. I simply want to be left alone.’

Without another word, she flounced out of the room and could be heard running up the stairs. Diane was crimson with embarrassment.

In telling her to avoid confrontation with a senior officer, Joe Keedy had given Alice Marmion sound advice. It was, however, easier to accept than to follow. Though she did her best to evade Inspector Gale, she couldn’t disobey a summons to meet her. Before she went into the office, she made sure that she smartened her uniform. Her tap on the door was met with a curt command so she went in. Thelma Gale was studying a report. Without even looking up, she beckoned Alice towards her then kept her standing there for several minutes. It was a deliberate means of humiliating her but Alice didn’t complain, even though she could see that the inspector was not actually reading the words in front of her. When she finally sat back and looked up at Alice, the other woman was disappointed not to be able to find fault with her appearance.

‘I’m going to send you out on patrol,’ she said, crisply. ‘Your introduction to the police service has been far too cosy.’

Being rapped over the knuckles every day was not what Alice would have called ‘cosy’ but she didn’t respond. Getting out of the building would be a boon to her. Apart from anything else, it took her well beyond the inspector’s reach.

‘Too many girls are being drawn into prostitution,’ said Thelma, ‘and they need to be warned about the risks to their health and — in some cases — to their lives. We’ve had some of them so badly beaten that they’re disfigured for life. There have also been two murders.’

‘The war is partly to blame, Inspector,’ suggested Alice. ‘Soldiers have had a dreadful time at the front. They’ve seen friends die all around them. When they come back on leave, they’re desperate for some female company and — if they have no wife or girlfriend — they’re more than ready to pay for it. Sometimes, they get carried away and don’t realise how violent they’re being.’

‘You seem remarkably well informed. Have you been talking to Daddy?’

‘No, Inspector — it’s common knowledge.’

‘And how knowledgeable are you about the services these girls provide?’

‘On that score, I’d have to admit that I’m rather ignorant.’

‘Then patrolling the streets will be an education for you,’ said Thelma. ‘It will open your eyes to the ways of the world and take your mind off this major crime that you’re helping your father to solve.’

‘I’m doing nothing of the kind,’ retorted Alice.

‘Don’t take that tone with me, young lady!’ snapped the other.

‘I’m sorry, Inspector.’

‘I’m entitled to obedience and respect, or didn’t your father tell you that?’

Alice bit back a rejoinder. ‘You’re right,’ she said at length.

‘If he didn’t, then Sergeant Keedy should have done so. He’s been here long enough to appreciate the structure of command.’ Thelma narrowed her eyelids. ‘Has he been telling you how the case is proceeding?’

‘We see very little of each other, Inspector.’

‘What do you think he’ll say to this latest assignment of yours?’

‘Sergeant Keedy knows that I’ll do what I’m told and that it’s the essence of police work to take orders and act on them promptly.’

‘Ah,’ said Thelma with a cold smile. ‘You have been listening, after all.’

‘To whom do I report?’

‘Don’t rush off. I haven’t finished talking to you yet.’

‘As you wish …’

Thelma appraised her shrewdly. ‘Has something happened?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, I think you do. Ever since you came into this office, you’ve been trying to hide a smile. Do I look comical to you? Is that it?’

‘No, it isn’t, I assure you.’

‘Perhaps you think that the women police are a subject for amusement.’

‘Not at all,’ said Alice, firmly. ‘Had I done so, I’d hardly have been so eager to join. If you do detect a smile, it’s because we’ve had some good news.’

‘Are you ready to share it with me?’

‘It’s of no interest to you, Inspector.’

‘Everything about you is of interest to me,’ said Thelma, sitting forward, ‘because it affects the way you do your job. What is this good news?’

‘Paul — that’s my brother — is coming home on leave next week.’

‘When did you last see him?’

‘It was ages ago,’ recalled Alice. ‘It’s getting on for the best part of a year.’

‘Where is he stationed?’

‘He’s in a camp near the Somme.’

‘When he gets back here, he’ll be very relieved.’

‘We’re giving him a welcome party.’

‘Is he married?’ asked Thelma.

‘No, Inspector.’

‘Does he have a sweetheart?’

‘Paul is single and fancy-free.’

‘Then you’ll be in a position to offer him some guidance, won’t you?’ Alice looked confused. Thelma had a gibe ready. ‘When you eventually discover what it is that ladies of the street actually do, you’ll be able to tell your brother to keep away from them or he may be going back to France with a nasty itch.’

It took them a long time to find the address they’d been given. There were three streets with very similar names and they went astray. Marmion wished that he’d asked Kennett to spell the name of the street. It would have saved them a lot of trouble. In the end, the car did find the right place and it nosed its way along the gutter before pulling up outside a Victorian artisan’s cottage. Herbert Wylie, they learnt from the landlady, rented a room there and was an ideal tenant. He always paid her on time and spent most evenings alone in his room. Mrs Armadale was a garrulous old woman with hair dyed an unnatural ginger colour. Having lost her husband the previous year, she’d taken in a lodger because she felt so lonely. From the way that she talked about Wylie, it was evident that he’d become a friend and did all kinds of odd jobs for her. He’d even taken over the little garden at the rear of the house.

When asked to describe him, she had nothing but praise. A picture slowly formed in the detective’s mind. Wylie was short, slim and in his thirties. Whenever he went out, he always took care with his appearance. The landlady spoke with approval of the attention he lavished on his shoes, polishing them every day and making them gleam if ever he went out of an evening. She was unaware that he’d briefly had a girlfriend named Enid Jenks.

‘When do you expect him back?’ asked Marmion.

‘I don’t know, Inspector,’ she replied. ‘A few days or so, he said.’