‘Not until he gets here.’

‘You’ll need this.’ Keedy handed over Stone’s business card. ‘He said that we could ring, no matter how late it is.’

Marmion glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘Look at the time,’ he said. ‘Ellen will think I’ve run off with another woman.’

‘Your wife knows you too well to think that.’

‘Police work plays havoc with family life.’

‘That’s why I never married,’ said Keedy, smiling. ‘Well, that’s one of the reasons, anyway.’

‘We all know the main one, Joe, but I don’t think this is the place to discuss your lively private life. Let’s get out of here, shall we?’ They left the morgue and stepped into the corridor outside. Marmion inhaled deeply. ‘That’s better — we can breathe properly now.’

‘I used to see dead bodies every day in the family business.’

‘I could never work in a place like this, I know that. But I’m grateful that someone can. A post-mortem always yields some useful clues. Well,’ he added, ‘you might as well sign off for the night.’

‘Don’t you want me to hang on until Mr Stone arrives?’

‘No, thanks — I can cope with him. You get your beauty sleep.’

Keedy grinned. ‘Who says I’m going to sleep?’

‘I do,’ warned Marmion. ‘I want you wide awake and turning up on time. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow — and the same goes for the days ahead. This will be a very complex investigation.’

‘The killer was one of dozens of people who got into that shop. Talk about safety in numbers. Do you think we have any chance at all of catching him, Inspector?’

‘Oh, we’ll catch him, Joe,’ said Marmion, eyes glinting. ‘I can guarantee it.’

Alice Marmion crept downstairs in the dark so that she would not wake her mother. Wearing a dressing gown and a pair of fur-lined slippers, she was a relatively tall, lean, lithe young woman in her twenties with an attractive face and dimpled cheeks. When she got to the hall, she was surprised to see a light under the kitchen door. She opened the door gently and saw her mother, dozing in a chair with her knitting resting on her lap. Ellen Marmion was an older and plumper version of her daughter. Her hair was grey and her face lined. Alice smiled affectionately. She was uncertain whether to rouse her mother or to slip gently away. In the event, the decision was taken out of her hands. Ellen came awake with a start.

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, seeing Alice. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I might ask you the same thing, Mummy. There’s no point in staying up for Daddy. He might be hours yet.’

‘I’m not tired.’

‘Then why did you fall asleep?’

‘I just dozed off for a few minutes.’

‘I couldn’t get off at all,’ said Alice. ‘I’ve got too many things on my mind. In the end, I thought I’d sneak down here and finish the marking. The children will expect their books back tomorrow.’

Ellen was concerned. ‘I think I can guess what’s on your mind.’

‘Vera Dowling and I talked about it at school yesterday. If I will, then Vera will. She just needs me to take the lead.’

‘You know what your father and I think, Alice. We’re against the idea. You’ve got a good job — an important job. Why do you need to run off and join the Women’s Emergency Corps?’

‘We want to help in the war effort.’

‘But, in a sense, you’re already doing that. You’re taking the children’s minds off the horrible things that are happening on the front. A lot of them have fathers who are fighting over there in the trenches. Your pupils must be so worried.’

‘They are,’ agreed Alice. ‘Most of them are too young to realise the full implications but, deep down, they’re very afraid. So are the mothers, of course. You can see it in their faces when they drop the kids off. Some, of course, have already lost their husbands. I feel so sorry for them. This war seems to be about nothing else but loss.’

‘That doesn’t mean you have to give up your job.’

‘I could always return to teaching later.’

‘I can’t bear the thought of you in uniform, Alice.’

‘Paul is in uniform.’

‘That’s different,’ argued Ellen. ‘Your brother is a man. He felt that it was his duty to enlist.’

‘Joining the WEC doesn’t mean that I’ll be in any danger,’ said Alice. ‘I’d still be based in this country — in London, probably. There’s a whole range of jobs that need doing.’

‘Teaching is one of them,’ Ellen reminded her.

She stifled a yawn and put her knitting on the kitchen table. It was too late to reopen an argument that she’d been having with her daughter for some weeks now. Ellen’s position was simple. She was proud that Alice was a schoolteacher. Having been denied a proper education herself, she wanted her daughter to pursue her studies and gain qualifications. It had involved dedication and many sacrifices. She could not understand why Alice was ready to turn her back on a job she’d striven so hard to get.

‘One more uniform in the family won’t make any difference,’ said Alice with a teasing smile.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I was thinking about Uncle Raymond. He’s been wearing a uniform for years in the Salvation Army. And he has to put up with far more hostility than I’d have to face in the WEC.’

‘I know,’ said Ellen, ruefully. ‘He’s been called names and pelted with stones time and again. He’s only trying to help people. I don’t agree with everything he believes in but I think your Uncle Raymond is a very brave man.’

‘Perhaps I should talk it over with him.’

Ellen was firm. ‘This is a matter between you and your parents, Alice. We don’t want to drag your uncle into this. Now why don’t you forget all about that marking and try to get some sleep.’

Alice touched her mother’s arm gently. ‘Let’s go up together.’

‘Your father can’t be all that long now.’

‘Daddy can’t expect you to wait up for ever,’ said Alice, helping her mother to her feet. ‘You leave your knitting and I’ll leave my marking. Off we go, Mummy.’

Feeling another yawn coming, Ellen put a hand to her mouth. Then she let herself be led out of the kitchen, leaving the light on. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, she grasped Alice’s wrist.

‘I want you to promise me something,’ she said.

‘I can’t promise not to join the WEC.’

‘That’s not what I’m asking, Alice. Your father and I have been very happy and I wouldn’t change him for the world. But I don’t want the same life for you. Promise me that you’ll never marry a policeman.’

Herbert Stone looked so dejected that Marmion took pity on him. Opening a drawer in his desk, the detective took out two glasses and a bottle of brandy. He poured a tot into each glass then offered one to his visitor. With a nod of thanks, Stone took it from him and had a restorative sip. It was late at night. After a visit to the morgue, they were in Marmion’s office. It had been trying enough for Stone to identify the corpse but there was an additional burden for him to carry now. He’d been told that foul play was involved. As well as coping with his own grief, it fell to him to inform the rest of the family that his brother had been stabbed to death.

Taking another sip of brandy, he mastered his sorrow.

‘When can we have the body?’ he asked.

‘That’s a matter for the coroner to decide,’ said Marmion, softly. ‘He’ll want a full post-mortem.’

Stone was dismayed. ‘Does my brother have to be cut to pieces, Inspector? Surely, he’s suffered enough indignity already.’

‘It’s standard procedure in the case of unnatural death, sir.’

‘Our religion enjoins us to bury the deceased as soon as possible. There are strict rituals to observe. Ideally, we’d like to reclaim the body today.’

‘That’s very unlikely, I’m afraid, Mr Stone. The body has far too much to tell us and that takes time. You’ll have to be patient.’

Stone’s anger surfaced again. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if the police had been protecting my brother’s shop, as they should have done. How could you allow such a tragedy to occur?’ he demanded. ‘My brother has led a blameless life. He didn’t deserve to die like this. What kind of police force permits a drunken mob to charge through the streets of London and murder someone with impunity?’