‘Well, that’s the point, boss,’ Mossop grimaced. ‘That . . . bastard Kelly . . . Major Kelly and his gang arrived an hour earlier with a warrant to search the public house and your private quarters, looking for the protection logs that you were supposed to find for them.’

Swallow felt his rage start to spill over.

‘What are you telling me?’ He realised he was shouting. ‘Are you saying that Kelly got a warrant to raid my house, Maria’s house, while I wasn’t there? Is that what happened to her?’

Mossop’s face contorted.

‘I’m sorry, boss. That’s the truth of it.’

‘Jesus,’ Swallow exclaimed. ‘Was there nobody there from G-Division to look after my wife? Didn’t anybody try to stop them? We’re supposed to be the police, the bloody detective division, aren’t we? Aren’t we supposed to look out for each other?’

‘I understand. . . . I’d prefer to be at the gates of Hell myself than bringing this news to you, boss,’ Mossop groaned. ‘But we didn’t know. Nobody in G-Division knew. They said they’d got a warrant from the assistant under-secretary. He’s a magistrate, as you know yourself.’

‘And what happened? What bloody well happened?’

‘They broke in the side door, probably around seven o’clock, and they made straight up the stairs to the private quarters. It seems that Mrs Swallow came out of her room and confronted them, told them to get out of her house. According to what Mr Mallon was told, Kelly showed her the warrant and told her to read it. There was some sort of an altercation then and . . . well . . . she fell on the stairs.’

Mossop turned his face imploringly to Lafeyre.

‘Maybe Dr Lafeyre can explain the . . . medical details . . . from that point, boss.’