‘Oh, dear! I can’t imagine much good would have come of that,’ Lily said sadly.

‘No indeed. He must have been a spectacular young man, however. Even the Empress – the fussiest and most snobbish woman on earth – liked him and was reported to admit he’d have made a wonderful son-in-law, if only …’

‘An imperial archduchess would be destined for one of the European royal heirs. Our own Edward? Oh, goodness – now, there’s a thought. Well, I’m glad to hear the girls had a taste of real life before …’

‘We think this girl here, the tall, full-bosomed one, is our Anna. Hard to be certain. Some of their friends did join them on the wards. And then there’s this snapshot, in different mode. A rather distant and blurred shot of five girls on a summer’s day – the imperial daughters plus Anna and, honestly, she could be any one of them. They all look alike to me. A froth of white lace, a glimmer of jewels and a gallery of sulky faces. Has a Romanov ever been observed to smile?’

‘That one’s our girl, sir,’ said Lily, pointing without hesitation.

‘Now how do you know that?’

‘The princess showed me a photograph. She wouldn’t part with it. But I can remember her features well enough to be able to identify her from this. She’d be the one standing next to Tatiana. Beauties, both.’

Sandilands peered. ‘We can’t use this for identification. Not clear enough and five years out of date. They all look alike to me though I think I can spot Tatiana! What a girl.’ He looked again. ‘Her raven-haired friend is spectacular too. The face is similar but she looks … heavier … than the taxi girl, Miss Hampshire.’

‘Puppy fat, sir? Some girls are blessed with it and lose it with age. And after all, there was a war on over there in Russia too.’

‘As you say. But then … Anything to reveal about her character before I open these pages and find out what she’s really been up to?’

‘Quite mad, the princess would have us believe. “A loose cannon” she called her. Utterly devoted to the imperial family. A Royalist to the core. But there are other things we can work out for ourselves, sir.’

‘Go on.’

‘She’s clever. She got the better of Bacchus, after all. She doesn’t act on instinct – she plans ahead. Six weeks ahead in the matter of her preparation for the Prince of Wales’s assassination. She’s ready to get her hands dirty in the pursuit of her aim – as Hopkirk, was it, said, she must be a strapping lass to survive the kitchens of a London hotel. And the address she gave … it was carefully chosen. She was always going to have early warning of interest from the Special Branch. Any strangers coming calling would receive a hostile and probably noisy reception where she sent them. The children would act as her guard dogs. She knew she’d have time for a quick exit round the back.’

‘So – resourceful and tough.’

‘But there’s another side to Anna. I sense her people are genuinely fond of her and would go to some lengths to protect her. Even to the extent of sending the forces of law and order on a fruitless chase around London while she goes into hiding. And the children – the street kids in Hogsmire Lane … I know she bribed them with lollipops but there was something more. Kids aren’t easy to deceive. And these ones really truly liked her and were concerned for her welfare. If they’d known I was a policewoman on her trail, I do believe they’d have turned their father on me!’

‘So what are you saying?’

‘That we’re looking for a girl of good character who’s been diverted – cut loose from her moorings like a ton of bronze cannon to crash about the decks – by some apparently overwhelmingly strong force that’s turned her mad. She now has a mind to murder and nothing’s going to stop her trying. Again and again.’

Joe’s nod said that he had already reached this point. ‘Let’s see if we can identify the force that turned her loose on us, shall we, Wentworth?’

Chapter Thirty

‘Born 1897. Which makes her twenty-five these days. High class family. Mother a lady-in-waiting to the Tsarina. I expect the little Anna was considered a suitable companion for the royal children. They had few enough of those. English is her first language, with French, German and Russian, of course.’

‘Who compiled these notes, sir?’

‘None of this is from the lady herself, you understand. It’s a résumé of snippets of information from various Russian sources put together by the Branch, with additions from other interested parties. She’s known to have arrived in London and signed her entry papers under her real name of Anna Petrovna with the joint sponsorship of the Princess Ratziatinsky and the captain of an English naval cruiser who seems to have been ready to vouch for her.’ He paused for a moment, deep in thought. ‘All too ready, perhaps. He was the naval gent who welcomed her aboard his vessel in Murmansk and brought her over here to England. The girl was in a poor state – reduced to skin and bone apparently – when the British consul enlisted Captain Swinburne’s help. He dropped her off with her friends, then she promptly went to ground in the capital. She had no intention of becoming better known to the authorities, it seems.’

Joe gave Lily time to absorb the brief notes on the first page before turning over.

‘This is interesting, sir, wouldn’t you say? It’s only an aside scribbled between the lines but it may be significant.’

‘A close and tender relationship appears to have been established between Miss Petrovna and the crown prince Alexei. The heir to all the Russias, poor little boy.’ Joe’s voice had softened. ‘What a weight to place on those thin shoulders.’

‘Are all the stories true, sir?’

‘Yes. I can confirm that the press and rumour had it right all those years – he was indeed very ill. Terminally ill. Haemophilia. Inherited from his mother’s line and untreatable. The only relief from debilitating pain and the constant threat of death from uncontrolled bleeding seems to have been administered by the foul Rasputin. The Tsarina firmly believed so. The prince led a sheltered life, his every movement monitored by family members and servants.’

‘And friends. It says here that Anna was frequently with him, telling him stories, carrying him about, making him laugh. How does Bacchus know all this?’

‘None of your business, Wentworth. I can just say that the Branch and MI1b and c have done intensive research into the expatriate Russian community … compiled dossiers, listened intelligently to people only too happy to tell their tale.’ He smiled. ‘Articulate lot, Russian émigrés and they all have a blood-curdling story to tell.’

‘May I speak from personal experience, sir?’

‘One of the reasons you’re sitting here with me now, Wentworth. Fire at will.’

‘I know what it is to get fond of a … disadvantaged … younger boy. It can be a strong feeling. One combining the best impulses of sister, mother, nurse and friend. I think it’s a girl’s natural urge to care for something or someone smaller and weaker. A doll or a pet animal often has to substitute. Combine that love with an overriding belief in the divine right of the Romanovs to rule … It’s something a girl would sacrifice her life for.’

‘Would she sacrifice someone else’s life?’

‘To take vengeance of some sort? Yes. Possibly. Oh, someone ordinary like me would rage and fume and curse and plan all sorts of retribution but wouldn’t necessarily arm herself and put it into practice, but …’

‘But you feel you could do it? If you were pushed?’

Lily swallowed and hesitated. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I could. Women do. It’s not unknown. But it would take a frightful force to push me over the edge.’

‘We’ll press on and find the origin of this impulse to slaughter, shall we? I don’t think we’ve got there yet.’

‘And here it comes, in all its disturbing detail,’ Joe said some time later, turning the page they had just read. ‘I should tell you that no woman has been allowed a sight of these documents. Bacchus gave clear warning that the contents are not fit for a girl’s eyes.’