There was muted laughter at the pained expression on Chatfield’s face.

‘That question is not relevant to the investigation,’ said Marmion, smoothly, ‘and, in any case, I believe that the right man got the job.’

Chatfield was mollified. ‘Who’s next?’ he asked, looking round.

They were in the large room reserved for meetings and press conferences. Marmion and Chatfield sat behind a desk and submitted to interrogation. The questions came thick and fast and, for the most part, Marmion was left to answer them. While he named no suspects, he repeated his belief that the killer was a local man who knew both the victim and the area. It was important for press coverage to stress that fact and to ask the inhabitants of Shoreditch if they’d seen anything suspicious on the night in question or if anyone they knew had been behaving strangely in its aftermath. After giving them a description of the life and character of the victim, he asked them to respect the privacy of the Ablatt family and to refrain from harassing them during a time of mourning.

When the questions dried to a trickle, a ginger-haired man with spectacles spoke for the first time. As he learnt more about the murder victim, his sympathy for Cyril Ablatt had waned. There was a note of outrage in his voice.

‘This man is a self-declared conchie,’ he said with vehemence. ‘At a time when police resources are stretched to the limit, why are you devoting so much manpower and effort to a miserable coward who refused to fight for his country?’

‘Cyril Ablatt is the victim of a brutal murder,’ said Marmion, firmly. ‘His death will be investigated with the same vigour as the murder of anybody else.’

‘Many people will find that scandalous.’

‘They’re entitled to their opinion.’

‘Wouldn’t the time and money spent on this investigation be better used in the fight against crime in the capital?’

‘I refute that suggestion,’ said Marmion. ‘Besides, as a man in your job ought to know, the latest statistics show that adult crime in the capital has actually gone down during the war. It’s not difficult to see why. The young men largely responsible for committing it have joined the army in droves. The pattern of crime has changed so dramatically that we have prisons standing half-empty.’

‘Then they should be filled with conchies like Cyril Ablatt.’

Marmion’s response was tinged with irritation. ‘When he became a murder victim,’ he said, ‘he ceased to be a conscientious objector. I think you should bear that in mind.’

‘One last question,’ said Chatfield, intervening to bring the proceedings to an end. ‘Inspector Marmion and I can’t spare you any more time. When we have more information — and when the results of the post-mortem are known — you will be informed.’ He saw a hand shoot up. ‘Yes?’

‘This concerns yesterday’s meeting of the NCF,’ said a man in a crumpled suit. ‘You told us that Ablatt went there with like-minded friends. Who were they?’

When the three of them met in Mansel Price’s digs, Leach was unwise enough to reveal his plan for bringing forward the date of his marriage. The Welshman was livid. Leaping up from his chair, he pointed an accusatory finger.

‘You’re a bloody traitor, Gordon,’ he yelled. ‘You’d be turning your back on everything you’ve ever believed in.’

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ said Leach.

‘You’ve lost your nerve completely.’

‘I have to consider Ruby.’

‘Why? She’s not liable to be called up. This is between you and the Military Service Act. Fred and I will defy it. All you’re going to do is to dodge it.’

‘That’s what I told him,’ said Hambridge.

Price was shaking with fury. ‘Honestly, Gordon, I’m ashamed of you. I thought you were one of us.’

‘I still am,’ insisted Leach.

‘No — you just want to watch from the safety of the sidelines while we take on the government. You’ve always claimed that you’d rather go to prison than fight in the army. All of a sudden, you’ve gone soft.’

‘It was only an idea, Mansel.’

‘Well,’ said Hambridge, hotly, ‘you know what we think of it.’

‘I’d never call you my friend ever again,’ warned Price.

‘Neither would I.’

‘Calm down, both of you,’ said Leach with a failed attempt at a smile of appeasement. ‘Nothing has been decided. If you want to know the truth, Ruby was in two minds about it and I can guarantee that her parents won’t like the idea all that much either. At the time when it occurred to me, it seemed like a … solution. But,’ he added quickly as he saw Price poised for attack, ‘I can see now that it wouldn’t really solve anything. So why don’t we forget all about it? I promise that I will.’

‘Will you swear to that?’ asked Price, standing over him. ‘We don’t want you sneaking off behind our backs and getting married. I know you’re keen to get Ruby into bed but you don’t need to be her husband to do that. Anybody else would have pulled her drawers off before now.’

‘Maybe he already has,’ said Hambridge with a grin.

‘I don’t think so, Fred. He wouldn’t look so desperate if he had.’

‘Enough of your sneers, Mansel,’ said Leach, angering. ‘You’re only jealous because you don’t have a girlfriend. Let’s keep Ruby out of this. The point is that I believe in pacifism as much as any of you. When it’s my turn to face a tribunal, I’ll nail my colours to the mast.’

‘They want you to join the army — not the bloody navy!’

The comment eased the tension at once. They traded a laugh and Price flopped back into his chair. He rented the attic room in an old Victorian house. The minimal warmth from the fire in the grate was countered by a series of draughts that blew in. Hurt that his suggestion had met with such opposition, Leach was consoled by the fact that he’d retained their friendship. Hambridge was pleased that their differences had now been resolved. He hated friction of any sort.

‘Think of Cyril,’ he advised. ‘His death should bring us together, not split us apart. After all, he was the one who showed us what we have in common.’

‘I agree,’ said Leach.

‘We’ve got to ask ourselves what he would have wanted.’

‘There’s an easy answer to that,’ said Price. ‘Cyril would urge us to have the courage of our convictions instead of rushing off to church to get married.’

Leach was upset. ‘Don’t keep on about it, Mansel,’ he complained. ‘I’ve told you that it won’t happen. Anyway, it wouldn’t have been in a church. It would have been in a register office and that wouldn’t have pleased Ruby at all. Instead of thinking about ourselves,’ he went on, ‘we ought to be thinking about Mr Ablatt. He and Cyril were very close. It must be terrible to lose your only child.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Hambridge. ‘I asked Mansel if we ought to call on him but he thought we should wait a bit until the shock wears off a little.’

‘The family will comfort him,’ said Price. ‘Cyril’s aunt and uncle will have been told by now. They’ll rally round. The rest of his relatives live outside London.’

‘Should we send a card or something?’

‘I don’t think so, Fred.’

‘What about you, Gordon? Should we get in touch?’

‘In due course,’ decided Leach after consideration. ‘Mansel is right. This is a family matter. Let them mourn in private.’

Though he lacked his employer’s physique, Percy Fry could work hard for long hours without respite. In the absence of Jack Dalley, he’d done just that at the forge. Lunch had consisted of the gobbled sandwich and the cup of tea that his wife had made for him. He lost count of the customers who came in need of his services and explained Dalley’s absence so many times that it was like reciting a favourite passage from a book. As the working day drew to a close, he began to put everything back in its place before closing up the forge. When the blacksmith finally returned to Bethnal Green, he was full of apologies for his abrupt departure. Fry made light of the pressure he’d been under.