He was more tolerant. ‘Is it such a mad idea, Ellen?’

‘We think so. Alice has a profession to follow.’

‘She feels that she wishes to help the war effort.’

‘Is that what you advised?’

‘Good Lord, no,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’d never try to tell Alice what to do. I merely provided a pair of ears so that she could go through the pros and cons. She’s well aware of the disadvantages of the scheme, so it’s not an easy decision. It partly depends on this friend who teaches at the same school.’

‘Her name is Vera Dowling. She’s a rather timid creature.’

‘Miss Dowling is ready to follow Alice’s lead, it seems, but she’s getting impatient. Alice thinks that her friend may get fed up with waiting and will volunteer even if she has to do it on her own.’

Ellen did not like the sound of that. Vera Dowling was a young woman who needed someone else to tell her what to do. If she was suddenly deciding to take independent action, it would act as a spur to Alice and that was worrying. Ellen tried to explain why she and her husband opposed the notion. Raymond listened with his customary patience and attention, making sure that he didn’t take sides. It was important for his sister-in-law to air her grievances so he let her talk uninterrupted.

Barely a minute after Ellen had finally reached the end of her peroration, they heard the front door being opened. Alice had come home from school. At the sight of her uncle, she grinned broadly and rushed to embrace him. Then she looked at her mother and back again at Raymond.

‘Something’s been going on,’ she said, suspiciously. ‘I sense a conspiratorial air in this kitchen.’

Raymond held up both hands. ‘Don’t look at me,’ he said. ‘I only came to borrow your father’s lawnmower.’

‘You’d better wear ear plugs when you use it, Uncle Ray. It makes the most terrible clanking noise.’

‘I can put up with that.’

Alice saw the cake. ‘I wouldn’t mind a slice of that, Mummy.’

‘I’ll make a fresh pot of tea,’ said Ellen.

‘Thank you. Then you can tell me what you were saying about me before I came in.’

‘You weren’t even mentioned, Alice.’

‘Then why is there such an atmosphere?’

Ellen clicked her tongue. ‘You’re imagining things.’

While her mother went to the sink to fill the kettle, Alice turned to her uncle. Honest by nature, her uncle would never dissemble. He anticipated her question and sought to divert it.

‘You were the subject of discussion, Alice,’ he told her, ‘when I had an unexpected visitor yesterday.’

‘Oh — who was that?’

‘Sergeant Joe Keedy.’

‘Why did he come to see you, Uncle Ray?’

‘He knows how long I’ve worked in the East End and how closely I’ve watched the activities of dissident elements in the area. We often have to pick up the pieces afterwards, you see. I was able to help him with a list of names.’

‘And you talked to him about me?’

‘Let’s say that your name came into the conversation.’

Alice was curious. ‘What did Joe have to say?’

‘It’s not what he had to say but the way that he said it.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘You’ve made something of a conquest, Alice.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ she said with a touch of sadness. ‘Joe is only interested in his girlfriend. She’s a nurse, apparently, and she’s gone to Flanders to work in a dressing station.’

‘I can only tell you what I heard,’ said Raymond.

‘And what was that?’ asked Ellen, lighting the gas.

‘I heard a man who is extremely fond of my lovely niece.’

Alice was pleased. ‘Did he say that in so many words?’

‘He didn’t need to,’ explained Raymond. ‘It was the way that Joe said your name. That’s what gave him away.’

It was encouraging news but Alice was not quite sure how to take it. While she was delighted to have made a good impression on Keedy, she was critical of him for taking an interest in her when his affections were already engaged elsewhere. Her own feelings about him had not changed — Alice still thought him a handsome, engaging and thoroughly mature man. That put him streets ahead of any of her other admirers. Yet he was unavailable. She had to keep reminding herself of that. Keedy was already spoken for and she had to respect that fact. When she came out of her reverie, she saw that her mother was offering her a slice of cake on a plate.

‘Oh,’ said Alice, taking it from her, ‘thank you, Mummy.’ She had a first bite of the cake before announcing her decision. ‘By the way, Vera and I have made up our minds at last.’

Ellen braced herself. ‘Have you?’

‘Yes — we’re going to join the WEC.’

As soon as Keedy entered Scotland Yard, he saw Marmion coming towards him with a sense of urgency. Instead of being able to report on his visit to the synagogue, the sergeant was turned round and bundled into a waiting car. Marmion settled in beside him and the vehicle set off.

‘Oliver Cochran has escaped,’ he said.

Keedy gaped. ‘How the hell did he do that?’

‘Let’s worry about that when we have him under lock and key. We have to catch him as soon as possible, Joe. If this gets into the press, they’ll start asking about the offence with which he’s charged and Ruth Stein’s name may be leaked.’

‘We must stop that happening, Inspector. I’ve just spoken to her uncle. The girl is still struggling badly. The last thing she needs is to see her name all over the newspapers. What’s the situation?’

‘We’ve launched a manhunt. Cochran won’t get far.’

‘He’s young and strong. If he’s clever enough to escape from Wandsworth, he could be very difficult to find.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Marmion, confidently. ‘He realises that he can’t stay at liberty indefinitely. In my view, that isn’t why he broke out of prison. Cochran has only one purpose in mind.’

‘What’s that, Inspector?’

‘He wants to get his revenge on John Gatliffe.’

He sat on the riverbank with his rod beside him, unable to summon up the energy or the interest to do any fishing. At least he was alone and free from the sustained disgust of his parents. Gatliffe had no rest at home. His mother and father had been horrified to hear that he’d been charged by the police, even though he insisted that he did not molest Ruth Stein in any way. His father had wanted to disown him and throw him out of the house. Only the intercession of his mother stopped it happening but she punished him in another way. While her husband ranted and threatened, she subjected her son to silent hostility, treating him to long withering stares and refusing to do anything for him beyond making meals that he was forced to eat by himself. Staying at home brought him unrelenting pain and guilt. Gatliffe had therefore fled to the river. Even though it was a dull and chilly day, he was content. They could not hurt him there.

He’d been wrong. He could see that now. He should never have confessed to the crime. It had not only ruined his life but broken his closest friendship. He and Oliver Cochran had grown up together, making light of the deprivation they suffered in a poverty-stricken area and supporting each other to the hilt at all times. They were no strangers to petty theft but had always got away with it because they were such convincing liars. Their respective parents had no idea how often they had gone astray. Mr and Mrs Gatliffe thought that their son was a decent and law-abiding young man. The revelation that he had been involved in the rape of a girl in the West End had come as a thunderbolt.

He’d let his friend down. That’s what hurt Gatliffe most. In being unable to defend himself against police interrogation, he’d betrayed Cochran and would never be forgiven. In hindsight, the situation was clear. He should have maintained his innocence. There was no certainty that the girl would be able to identify them in court and she might well lose her nerve before the trial took place. According to Cochran, that often happened. The girl in the alley had not been his first victim. While Gatliffe had kept watch, Cochran had once raped a drunken girl after a dance. Though she’d vowed revenge, there’d been no repercussions — no report to the police, no hostile questioning, no charges. Even if there had been, Gatliffe would have been prepared to lie outrageously on his friend’s behalf. Why hadn’t he done so this time?