‘You’re making this up,’ said Jenks.

‘I’m only reporting what I was told, sir.’

‘And I can support it,’ said Beresford. ‘Now I recall it, Enid always lurked at the factory gate so that she could go in with Shirley. I thought she was just being friendly but it’s more likely that she needed a bodyguard.’

Jenks was furious. ‘If Enid was being harassed, she’d have told me.’

‘It’s precisely because you’re her father,’ argued Marmion, ‘that she couldn’t turn to you. It would have meant owning up that she’d once encouraged this man’s interest in her.’

‘Where did you get this monstrous tale?’

‘If only it were monstrous, sir.’

‘Who is your informant?’ demanded Jenks.

‘It was Maureen Quinn. Your daughter confided in her and Maureen would hardly have invented a story like that. She struck me as a truthful young woman.’ Marmion looked at Beresford. ‘You know her well, Mr Beresford, because she is in your football team. Would you say that Maureen was honest by nature?’

‘Yes,’ said Beresford, ‘I would. She’s very honest.’

Marmion turned back to Jenks. ‘Facts are facts, sir, however distasteful they may be. You’ll simply have to accept the truth.’

Jenks was dazed. The daughter whom he’d loved and trusted was changing before his eyes and it was a distressing transformation. He was so shocked that he dropped down into an armchair with his head in his hands. All that Marmion and Beresford could do was to wait until he began to rally. Sitting up straight, Jenks looked at Marmion with apprehension.

‘What other revelations do you have about my daughter?’ he asked.

‘I know of nothing to her discredit,’ said Marmion. ‘The fault, it seems, lies entirely with Wylie. When you read a newspaper tomorrow morning, you’ll see that he’s been identified as a chief suspect.’

‘Then why, in God’s name, haven’t you arrested him?’

‘He’s disappeared and we don’t know where he is.’

‘Have you been to his house?’

‘Sergeant Keedy and I called there earlier. What you need to know, Mr Jenks, is that Wylie kept sending notes to your daughter. One of them is of special interest to us because,’ said Marmion, solemnly, ‘it contained a threat that, if he could not possess Enid, then nobody could.’

‘It was Herbert!’ cried Beresford. ‘I bet he planted that bomb.’

‘We’re working on that supposition, sir. The search has begun.’

Jenks was horrified. ‘Are you saying that Enid caused this disaster?’

‘Not at all,’ stressed Marmion. ‘She was an innocent victim and so were the other four people at that birthday party.’

‘If she’d told me, I could have tackled this devil and sent him packing.’

‘Perhaps she found it difficult to confide such things in you, sir.’

‘I still can’t accept that she lied to me, Inspector.’

Beresford stood up. ‘How sure are you that Herbert was behind the crime?’

‘The evidence speaks for itself, sir.’

‘Well, he’d certainly know how to make a bomb. It was his job.’

‘We found items at his address that proved he had the means to construct an explosive device. And when someone suddenly vanishes from the scene, it’s often because he wants to escape justice.’

‘I’d like to tear him apart,’ growled Jenks, rising to his feet.

‘So would I,’ affirmed Beresford.

‘He must have put my daughter through hell. If he turned up at church, Enid must have realised that there was nowhere to hide. The poor girl must have been at her wits’ end.’ He wrung his hands. ‘Why ever didn’t she turn to me?’

‘That’s a question only you can answer, sir,’ said Marmion, quietly.

Everyone to whom Keedy talked said the same thing about Herbert Wylie. He was a quiet, industrious, rather lonely man who did his job but who made few friends at the factory. Those who realised that a detective would only take an interest in their colleague if he was suspected of something expressed their surprise. Alf Rutter, the foreman under whom Wylie worked, refused to countenance the notion that the man was capable of committing a crime. Rutter was a bull-necked man with a bald head and a toothbrush moustache that wiggled as he talked. He was also very fond of gesticulating as a means of underlining any points he was trying to make. Keedy felt that it was like talking to a human windmill.

‘Herb Wylie?’ said Rutter. ‘He wouldn’t say boo to a goose.’

‘What about a Golden Goose?’ asked Keedy.

‘You’ve got the wrong man, Sergeant.’

‘Did he have a girlfriend?’

‘No, he was far too shy. A barmaid only had to smile at him and Herb would blush bright red. Now, in my case,’ boasted Rutter, hands whirring away, ‘it was different. I was in the merchant navy. I saw a bit of the world, if you take my meaning.’

‘What about hobbies?’

‘There’s no time for hobbies in this place. You work till you drop then stagger home to bed. The only thing that any of us have any time for is a reviving pint and a natter with the missus.’

‘But Wylie wasn’t married.’

‘He had this landlady who doted on him. She couldn’t do enough for Herb. That was his idea of a girlfriend — someone old, kind and wanting to look after him.’

‘What about his family?’

‘I don’t think he had anything to do with them, Sergeant. He left home years ago. He was from Sheffield originally and came south to look for work. God knows how he ended up in Hayes but he did. As for his work,’ said Rutter, arms still flailing away, ‘I got no complaints. Herb was slow but he kept at it. He was … what’s the word?’

‘Tenacious?’ suggested Keedy.

‘That would sum him up perfect. He was tenacious.’

‘You mean that once he got his teeth into something, he’d never let go.’

Rutter grinned. ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself, Sergeant.’

It was an aspect of Wylie’s character that indicated he could well be the person described by Maureen Quinn. When he went through what he knew of the victims, Keedy could see why the reportedly shy Wylie had settled on Enid Jenks. Florrie Duncan would have been too daunting a challenge for him while Jean Harte was still mourning the death of her fiancé and repelled all male interest. Shirley Beresford and Agnes Collier were both married, the former having a husband on the premises. When he added Maureen Quinn’s name to the list, Keedy decided that she’d be more able to stand up for herself, especially with Florrie at her back. Of the six women who went to the birthday party, Enid Jenks was the most likely recipient of Wylie’s unsought addresses. She was, by all accounts, a quiet, gentle soul with few interests outside her music. Because of her father’s vigilance, she had no opportunity to find a boyfriend or to enjoy some experience of real adult life. As a target, she would have been docile and unable to strike back. Wylie had watched her for a long time before moving in.

‘Where would he go if he wanted to hide?’ asked Keedy.

Rutter was combative. ‘Who says he’s in hiding? I reckon he’s just gone off for a few days’ holiday. To tell the truth, he looked a bit odd last time he was here, like he was ill or something.’

‘Was he jumpy?’

‘No, he just did his job then rushed out.’

‘Thank you, Mr Rutter. You’ve been very helpful.’

‘I’ve saved you a lot of wasted time, Sergeant. There’s no need to go after Herb. He wouldn’t have the courage to look at them girls, let alone blow them up.’

He semaphored with both arms then turned on his heel and strode off. Keedy was glad to have spoken to the foreman. Unwittingly, the man had told him something about the suspect that confirmed his potential as a suspect. When he returned to Kennett’s office, a bonus awaited him. The works manager had dug out an old photograph of some employees about to depart on an outing. A dozen or more men were standing on a platform at the railway station and grinning happily. Wylie was lurking on the edge of the group as if he was not really part of it. Head bent forward and eyes screwed up in concentration, he stared defiantly at the camera.