‘Let her,’ said the taller man, spitting into the sea. ‘What use will that do? She’s got no idea who we are. The coppers would never find us in a month of Sundays. Besides,’ he went on, ‘the pair of us could be dead soon. I was determined to have at least one good shag before that happens. You should have done the same.’

‘I couldn’t,’ confessed the other. ‘I just couldn’t somehow.’

‘What was the trouble — brewer’s droop?’

‘I thought it was wrong. And — no matter what you say — I still believe we might pay for it one day.’

His friend laughed derisively. ‘Not a chance, Gatty — we’re in the clear, I tell you. If we do ever get back to Blighty, it will all have blown over.’ He slapped him on the back. ‘Now stop worrying about it, will you? Think about shooting Huns instead.’

Given the circumstances, Marmion was amazed that Miriam Stein was prepared to be interviewed about the crime. Ruth was completely unequal to the task but her mother was determined that mourning her husband would not prevent her from seeking justice for the rape of her daughter. When he reached the Stein home, Marmion found that Stone had got there before him and taken charge. His wife and two daughters were also there, as were the rabbi and some family friends who’d come to offer solace. As he entered the house, Marmion removed his hat and was conducted along a passageway by Stone. Beside every door was a symbol that it was a Jewish household. The inspector was shown into a room at the far end.

‘Wait here, please,’ said Stone. ‘I’ll fetch Mimi.’

Left alone for a couple of minutes, Marmion was able to take his bearings. He was in what had obviously been Jacob Stein’s office. The man was scrupulously tidy. Everything on the desk was in neat piles and the books were arranged carefully on the bookshelves that covered two walls. A framed photograph of the Jermyn Street shop hung above the desk, flanked by photos of Stein’s son and daughter. Seeing the smiling innocence on Ruth’s face, Marmion felt a mingled sadness and anger when he thought of the ordeal she must have suffered. His own daughter came into his mind. Had Alice been the victim of rape, he could imagine how enraged he would be.

Stone eventually returned and introduced his sister-in-law. Though Miriam had clearly shed tears, she was bearing up well under the double tragedy. She sat on the little settee beside Stone. Marmion lowered himself onto the upright chair opposite them. He was not certain if Stone was there to offer moral support to his sister-in-law or simply to keep a watchful eye on him. Since the man was determined to stay, however, there was nothing that Marmion could do about it.

‘Allow me to offer my condolences, Mrs Stein,’ he began. ‘It’s very good of you to speak to me at such a trying time.’

‘What happened to Ruth was appalling,’ she said. ‘Somebody must be called to account for it.’

‘Both you and she have my sympathy. I have a daughter of my own. I can appreciate the anguish this must have brought you.’

‘We’re not talking about your daughter,’ said Stone.

‘Indeed not, sir.’ He took out a pad and pencil. ‘When you feel ready, Mrs Stein, perhaps you could give me the details.’

‘There are precious few to give,’ she said. ‘I had to tease them out of Ruth one by one. She was trying to block the whole thing out of her mind but I told her that she must face it. I also made sure that the doctor examined her this morning. Ruth feels somehow that she’s in disgrace but I keep telling her that she’s not. She was a victim.’

‘What exactly happened?’

Miriam bit her lip then launched into her tale. It was necessarily short. She described why and when Ruth had left the shop and whom she’d encountered in the alley. Of the two young men, only one had actually committed the rape. They had told Ruth that they were going abroad with their regiment next day. Miriam explained how Ruth had behaved on her return and how the bloodstain on her stockings had aroused suspicion. After her daughter’s protracted stay in the bath, her mother knew that something was seriously amiss. Marmion waited until she had finished. Having to recount such unsavoury details had put great strain on Miriam. Stone patted her arm to show his approval then he flicked his gaze to Marmion.

‘We want this kept out of the papers, Inspector.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Miriam. ‘I promised Ruth that there’d be no publicity. She’d die if that happened. You know the sort of lurid headlines that they use.’

‘There’ll have to be a mention when the case comes to court,’ said Marmion, apologetically, ‘but the interest should have died down by then and your daughter, hopefully, will feel strong enough to identify the two men.’ He looked at his notes. ‘She gave only the sketchiest descriptions. Did she say anything else about them? Their height, weight, skin complexion, for instance? What were they wearing at the time?’

‘Ruth didn’t notice that. They were just … drunken young men.’

‘People with beer inside them tend to talk a lot. What sort of accents did they have? Were they from London or another part of the country?’

‘She didn’t say, Inspector.’

‘They must have called each other something.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Miriam, ‘they did. Ruth remembered that. One was called Ol — short for Oliver, I presume. And he referred to the other as Gatty.’

Marmion put his pad away. ‘That’s enough to go on.’

‘It doesn’t sound as if it is to me,’ argued Stone.

‘I can soon find out which regiments were shipped to France today, sir. Oliver is not that common a name. I’ll use a process of elimination. As for his accomplice, Gatty must be a diminutive of some sort. A thorough search will uncover his real name.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Thank you, Mrs Stein. I’ll intrude no longer. What you’ve told me has been extremely useful. We’ll have to see if it’s related in any way to the other crimes that took place or if it was a separate incident.’

‘What can we tell Ruth?’ asked Miriam.

‘Tell her that her attackers made a fatal mistake in mentioning that they’re in the army. I know where to look for them now. Being a member of the British Expeditionary Force doesn’t make them immune from arrest — as they’ll find out in due course. Goodbye to both of you.’

‘Goodbye, Inspector,’ said Miriam.

‘I’ll show you out,’ said Stone, getting up and opening the door. ‘And I want to thank you,’ he added when they were alone in the passageway. ‘Miriam’s emotions are very fragile at the moment, as you can well understand. You handled that interview with sensitivity.’

It was unexpected praise from an unlikely source. Marmion had the feeling that he might win over Herbert Stone after all. But he knew that there was a long way to go before he did that.

Dorothy Holdstock was peeling potatoes in the kitchen when she heard a knock at her front door. After running her hands under the tap for a moment, she dried them on her pinafore and went out. When she opened the door, she was taken completely by surprise. Standing in the porch with a suitcase in her hand was her sister.

‘Irene!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re still alive!’

Throwing their arms around each other, they cried with joy.

Joe Keedy enjoyed questioning suspects. The process was a battle of wills that he usually won. Marmion had taught him a valuable lesson. Divide and rule. When more than one person was involved, it was important to split them up to avoid collusion. As a result of the names gleaned from Brian Coley, three men from Shoreditch were arrested at their places of work and brought in separately. Keedy interrogated each of them in turn. The first was the easiest to break. After an initial denial, he soon buckled and confessed that he had been in Jermyn Street the night before. A chimney sweep by trade, he claimed that he was accidentally caught up in the attack and had not actually entered the shop. When Keedy pointed out that items stolen from the property had been found at his home, he wilted completely.