She was still gibbering away to herself when the police left.

On the Isle of Wight, Sergeant Henderson knocked on Ester’s front door for a fourth time before deciding to send his accompanying PC round the back to try and find an alternative way in. They had the paperwork to force entry, but an open window would be the best solution seeing as no one was home.

Through the kitchen window, the PC was faced with Geoffrey pinned flat against the side of the fridge-freezer, his eyes screwed tight shut. He had taken Ester’s advice about hiding his fetishes in order to bag himself a nice woman, so was dressed in blue jeans, a white T-shirt, a black V-neck jumper and black brogues. He looked good. But the smart clothes couldn’t hide the fact that he was a broken man. The PC tapped gently on the window, so as not to frighten him further.

Like a greyhound out of the starting gate, Geoffrey bolted for the front door, raced outside and barreled straight into Sergeant Henderson. Once Geoffrey was down, he stayed there. He lay on his back, his arms wrapped around his face, sobbing, “I miss her! I miss her! I miss her!”

Henderson got to his feet and dialed a number in his mobile.

Ridley looked out of Angela’s balcony window, across the gray, rain-filled skies of West London, and tried to maintain his trademark calm demeanor—but his fist was clenched tight around his mobile phone as if he was about to explode. It wasn’t something Jack had ever seen before, and it wouldn’t last long, he was sure of that. Next to Ridley was Angela’s stack of transparent plastic sewing boxes, neatly labeled by client name. The stack stood seven boxes tall and when Ridley kicked out at the third one up, he sent the top four flying across the lounge. He then returned to the balcony window. His shoulders were tense beneath his coat and they moved rhythmically up and down as he took deep, controlled breaths.

While Jack waited for Ridley to calm down, something made him glance upward at the high shelf, out of reach of sticky fingers. The worn teddy bear and yellow teething ring had gone. Jack smiled in admiration for what the women had managed to achieve. The patience, the mutual trust, the mutual love, the organization that lay behind this was staggering. Of course Jack was frustrated at always being several steps behind them but, my God, what special women they were!

“Geoffrey Porter-Lewis is being escorted across to us,” Ridley said when he finally spoke. “He’s all we’ve got. You’ve met him, Jack—will he give us the women?”

“He won’t know anything, sir. Geoffrey will snap like a twig and Ester would know that.”

“I’m going to send you some uniforms. Tear this place apart. And when Geoffrey arrives I want you to interview him.”

And Ridley left without another word.

Jack pushed his hands deep into his pockets and took his place by the balcony window. On the balcony, next to a child’s bike, a bunch of flowers stood in a bucket. Jack could see the handwritten label in its plastic pocket on the side of the wrapping: TO DOLLY. NEVER FORGOTTEN. X.