“I’m letting you off here,” he said, helping Gwen onto the shore. “I have to return the boat before the owner notices it’s gone missing.”

“I thought you borrowed it,” said Iris as she stepped out, unassisted.

“It’s a loose concept,” he said. “I also have to return the motorcycle I borrowed. And the auto I borrowed. What wonderful, oblivious friends have I! I’ll call you if I need bail.”

“We have it,” said Gwen, holding up the Hamleys bag.

“That should be enough for a much larger crime spree,” said Sally as he shoved off. “Here I go. Good night, ladies.”

He waved and vanished around the bend.

“There’s a pub at the top of the stairs,” offered Iris.

“I know,” said Gwen. “Not tonight. Let’s get back to The Right Sort and figure things out.”

They climbed the steps, then turned onto Wapping High Street.

“Call boxes,” said Gwen, pointing out a pair on the corner.

“Yes, I see them,” said Iris.

She stepped inside, inserted a coin, and dialed.

“’Allo, please?” she said in a high-pitched voice. “Ees police, please? Ees dead man in varehouse. Brunsveek Street, Blackvall Yard. No, no geev name. Bye!”

She hung up.

“What accent was that supposed to be?” asked Gwen.

“No idea,” said Iris. “And they won’t know what it was, either.”

“Appalling,” said Gwen. “We’ve become appalling people, Iris. When did that happen?”

It was past six when they finally got back to their building. Gwen unlocked the front door, and they trudged up the steps to their office. Gwen collapsed into her chair.

“Pass me the telephone,” she said. “I should let them know I’m going to be home late.”

“Here you are,” said Iris. “And you had better give me the money. I’ll put it in the strongbox until we need it again. When you’re done calling home, we should have Oona and Catherine check in with Mrs. Fisher.”

“What should we tell her?”

“That the mission was unsuccessful, and that the money is safe,” said Iris. “And that someone was murdered, but we didn’t do it.”

She bent down and slid open the panel concealing the strongbox, then unlocked it.

“Poor empty sod,” she said to it. “Mummy’s about to feed you like you’ve never been fed before.”

She transferred the money from the bag to the strongbox.

“Hello, Percival?” said Gwen as the butler answered. “It’s Mrs. Bainbridge. I’m dining out with Miss Sparks tonight. Is your young lord and cowpoke home from the range?”

“He is, Mrs. Bainbridge,” said Percival. “Unless I am mistaken, that is him stampeding towards the telephone now. Shall I put him on?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Gwen.

She held back the receiver from her ear.

“Hello, Mummy,” said Little Ronnie.

“You’re not shouting,” said Gwen proudly. “Well done. How was Tommy’s birthday party?”

“It was wonderful! We played Pin the Tail on the Donkey and cowboys and Indians and there was cake with real frosting and lemonade.”

“Did he like the present you gave him?”