‘They were both raised in Khyber Street, that’s on the south side of the river.’

‘That’s it,’ Nick said. ‘My mother kept a shop on the Hull Road just around the corner from Khyber Street. I lived there till I was ten, then we moved to a bigger place in Brentwood.’

‘You remember them?’

‘I couldn’t forget Bella. She was the best known tart in the district. Half the population did nothing else except wait for her to walk by. One of life’s great experiences. I was too young, I didn’t know what was happening to me. I do now.’

‘And never been the same since,’ Grant said. ‘What about Jean?’

Nick shrugged. ‘Just a scrawny kid about my own age. I don’t think we ever did more than pass the time of day. They didn’t use our shop. My old lady wouldn’t give credit.’

The door opened and Brady came in, a pile of files under his arm. He ignored Nick and said to Grant, ‘Where do you want these?’

‘In the outer office.’ Grant looked enquiringly at Nick. ‘Need any help? You haven’t got much time.’

‘Up to you,’ Nick said, ignoring Brady.

‘All right, Jack can give you a hand for half an hour. If you want any advice, just come in.’

He pulled a file forward and Nick got to his feet and walked into the outer office. As he took off his raincoat and hung it on a stand, Brady dropped the files on one of the desks.

‘What do you want me to do?’ he said woodenly.

‘That depends,’ Nick said. ‘What have you got there?’

‘Garvald’s personal file and the files on everyone else who was close to him.’

‘Fine,’ Nick said. ‘I’ll take Garvald myself. You start making abstracts of the others.’

Brady didn’t argue. He left Garvald’s file on the desk, picked up the rest, and went to his own desk in the corner by the window and started to work immediately.

Nick opened Garvald’s file and examined the ID card. The face which stared out at him was tough, even ruthless, but there was strength there and intelligence, even a suggestion of humour in the slight quirk at one side of the mouth.

As usual, the card carried the briefest of details and referred only to the offence and charges for which Garvald had last been sent down, namely factory breaking and the stealing of £15,817, the property of Steel Amalgamated Ltd. of Sheffield.

The story contained in the confidential file attached was even more interesting.

Ben Garvald had served for two years in the Marine Commando during the war, being demobilized in 1946. Three months later he was sentenced to one year’s imprisonment for conspiracy to steal.