Ray couldn’t relax. He stood up. ‘I’d better go and see what’s happened to her.’

Pam tutted. ‘I hope she’s not going to be trouble, that one.’

As he made his way down the corridor, Ray heard a commotion ahead: loud male voices and guffaws. It was bound to have something to do with Maggie Corbett.

‘That’s let the cat out of the bag!’ a man called out, followed by raucous laughter.

She was standing in the corridor, red-faced, flustered and surrounded by half a dozen soldiers.

He’d reached her now. ‘Miss Corbett? What on earth’s going on?’

She turned and her eyes widened. ‘Mr Maguire! Something … oh, it’s such a nuisance. I’m afraid I’ve lost my cat.’

‘You’ve lost your cat,’ he repeated, deadpan. It sounded like code for something else. He knew, from growing up in a house with three sisters, that girls often had queer expressions for things. When they said they had the painters and decorators in, for example, that meant something entirely different, something mysterious and embarrassing. Perhaps this was the same, although he couldn’t for the life of him think what it might be. The soldiers were certainly enjoying the joke.

‘She’s a sweet little thing,’ Maggie was saying. ‘She’s called Tabby and I know I oughtn’t to have brought her, but it was that or … and she’s never been on a train before and she took fright. I only hope she hasn’t jumped out of a window!’

Ray shook his head and looked out at the streets and buildings flashing by. At this precise moment, jumping out of a window seemed quite a tempting proposition.

Compartment doors around them were sliding open as passengers put their heads out, to see what all the kerfuffle was.

‘Miss Corbett,’ Ray asked, keeping his voice low and calm, ‘are we talking about a real cat here?’

She grimaced and bit her lip.

‘This is not a joke?’

‘It’s not a joke.’

In any other circumstances, Ray supposed he might have found the situation amusing. He liked a laugh as much as the next man. But not here, not now, when he was in charge. This was ridiculous and it was making him look ridiculous too. But at least it explained all the secrecy with the carpet bag. There was a cat in it! Or rather, there had been.

‘So, to be clear,’ he said, ‘you’ve brought a cat with you, to Snowden Hall?’