But the right man had failed to appear and children remained only a distant possibility. What upset Alice was the way that her mother subtly reminded her that time was against her. Most of her contemporaries were either married or engaged. Several were pushing perambulators. As she thought about it now, she realised that her age was the problem. She was too old to stay at home and have her life shaped by her parents. Loving and supportive as they were, they were also a handicap. Keedy’s brief visit had given her great pleasure. She should have been allowed to wallow in her memory of it. Instead, Alice was forced into a spat with her mother. No relationship with a man could blossom with someone looking over her shoulder like that.

She had to move. That was the realisation that dawned on her. Alice had outgrown her family, yet stayed within its bosom. She needed a place of her own, even if it was only a bedsitter. It was something she could readily afford. Though she gave her mother a token rent each week, most of her salary was saved. Her expenditure was relatively small. Buying herself some freedom would be a wise investment. The longer she thought about it, the more convinced she became. There had been a time when Vera Dowling, who also lived with her parents, had suggested that they might find accommodation together. That arrangement had no appeal for Alice. Much as she liked her friend, she did not want her social life to be hampered by her. If she and Vera lived together, Alice could never invite a man to tea. Her friend would be in the way, another form of obstruction.

It was the moment to strike out on her own. On top of one important decision, Alice now made another. She would tell her parents that she was looking for somewhere else to live. It would give her freedom to grow. Her mother would protest but her father would be more sympathetic to the notion. He would also do something that made her tingle all over. He would pass on the news to Joe Keedy.

‘Are you back already?’ asked Harvey Marmion.

‘It’s almost noon, Inspector,’ said Keedy.

‘Is it? Where the hell has the morning gone?’

‘Most of mine was spent on the train.’

‘That was preferable to starting the day by going three rounds with Herbert Stone. He was camped in the commissioner’s office when I got here.’

‘What’s his complaint this time?’

‘It’s a genuine one — someone set fire to his car.’

Marmion gave him an edited version of the conversation with Stone. He explained that detectives had been unable to find any telling clues at the garage but were still searching. Keedy was interested to hear that new names had come into play as potential suspects. The people concerned were being tracked down and interviewed so that they could be eliminated from the investigation.

They were in Marmion’s office. He was behind his desk and Keedy flopped into the chair opposite him. It was the sergeant’s turn to describe his morning. Referring to notes he’d made on his way back to London, he talked about his meeting with Howard Fine. When he mentioned the beating taken by the tailor, Marmion was roused.

‘Why didn’t he mention that to you before?’

‘I think I’ve worked that out, Inspector,’ said Keedy. ‘He didn’t want to tell me the reason he’d been threatened because it would have been too embarrassing for him. Now that I’ve had an insight into his private life, Fine was ready to talk about the incident.’

‘Do you believe he was telling the truth?’

‘I’m certain of it.’

‘Well,’ said Marmion, thinking it over, ‘it certainly gives him a strong motive for wanting to hit back at Mr Stone.’

‘He almost burst out laughing when I told him about the car.’

‘Wait until he hears that it was set on fire.’

‘I knew nothing about that when I spoke to him,’ said Keedy. He looked at the sheet of cartridge paper in front of the inspector. ‘What have you got there?’

‘It’s a plan of the shop in Jermyn Street,’ explained Marmion. ‘I did a rough sketch based on my visit there yesterday. Come and have a look, Joe.’

Keedy got to his feet and walked behind the desk. Standing behind the inspector, he peered over his shoulder at a ground floor plan. The names of the rooms had been marked. Keedy was surprised there were so many of them. Moving the sheet aside, Marmion pulled out the one underneath it. The second sketch was of the first floor of the building. Once again, rooms were named and the position of the safe marked in the office. When the two sheets were side by side, Keedy scrutinised them.

‘What do you notice?’ asked Marmion.

Keedy grinned. ‘I notice that you’d never make a living as an architect,’ he said with a grin. ‘None of the lines are straight and it’s obviously not drawn to scale. One of Alice’s pupils could do better than that.’

‘Accuracy doesn’t matter. Study it with care.’

‘What am I supposed to be looking for?’ said Keedy.

‘You should have spotted it by now, Joe.’

‘There’s no roof space — a building that size must have an attic.’

‘That’s irrelevant,’ said Marmion. ‘Besides, I couldn’t get up there. I had to use a ladder to inspect the first floor.’ He beamed. ‘Come on, Joe. You’re missing something very obvious.’

‘Then put me out of my misery.’

‘Count the doors.’

‘Why should I do that?’

‘Because they could give us the breakthrough we need,’ argued Marmion. He used his fingers to indicate. ‘There are one, two, three locked doors between the shop and the upstairs office.’

‘So?’

‘The man who killed Jacob Stein was not part of the mob that stormed into the shop. He wouldn’t have been able to reach him.’

‘He might have done so when the fire destroyed the doors.’

‘That would have been far too risky.’

‘Then that leaves us with only one possibility, Inspector,’ said Keedy as he worked it out. ‘The killer didn’t need to get past three locked doors.’

‘Your brain is clicking into action at last.’

‘Why didn’t we think of it before?’

‘We didn’t have my drawings at our disposal,’ said Marmion, tapping the plans. ‘Tell me why someone was able to wait until the safe was opened before he stabbed Jacob Stein in the chest.’

‘I think that he watched and waited for the right moment,’ Keedy deduced with growing excitement. ‘The fire was lit as a diversion. Nobody went from the shop to the office because it was unnecessary. The killer was already upstairs in the building before the mob even arrived.’

‘That has to be the answer.’

‘It’s bloody brilliant, Inspector.’

‘I’ll choose another way of saying that to the commissioner.’

‘It sharpens the focus of the whole investigation.’

‘It does, Joe. We come back to my original assumption that someone with a detailed knowledge of the layout of the premises has to be involved. Keys would have been needed to get the killer in there.’

‘I thought Mr Stein had the only set.’

‘Duplicates must somehow have been made, Joe. I doubt if he kept the keys on his person throughout the day. There must have been times when he went to the toilet or left the keys in his office.’

‘David Cohen was the only employee allowed up there.’

‘Then we must have him watched,’ said Marmion. ‘If I haul him in for questioning, it will put him on his guard. Put a man on him and we’ll see just how loyal the manager really was to Mr Stein.’

‘I still think there’s an anti-Semitic element here.’

‘Not if the culprit is David Cohen.’

‘Then I’m inclined to think that he’s innocent.’

‘Reserve your judgement until we have more evidence,’ said Marmion, sitting back and rubbing his hands. ‘I think that we’re on the right track at last.’

‘Who the devil was the killer?’

‘I don’t know, Joe, but I feel that we have one hand on his shoulder now. It’s only a matter of time.’

Irene Bayard could not be idle. After doing some chores around the house, she made Miss James a cup of tea, asked her if she could do any shopping on her behalf, then went out to catch the tram. It was well past noon when she headed for the shoe shop where Dorothy worked, hoping to tempt her out for a light lunch somewhere. Thrilled to see her, her sister was quick to accept the invitation. She took the two shopping bags from Irene.