Tess sent her an incredulous look. “They have to be barmy. Should be locked up in Bedlam. Then ladies and gents can walk through and look at them.”

Miss Townsend chuckled. “That would indeed be an ironic turn of events. Worry not, Cyn. Their house will be searched, and they’ll not touch a child, either from the Hospital or anywhere else.” She spoke with conviction.

“Thank heaven for that,” Tess breathed. “It’s a crime that such dafties live soft, while honest folk grub for their pennies.”

Cynthia nodded her agreement.

I gazed speculatively at Miss Townsend. She’d returned to sketching, quite sanguine that she could stop the Woolners from their unsavory practices. Her family was wealthy and prominent, yes, but I wondered at her confidence in her own powers.

“Please tell Mr. Thanos I am sorry he had to meet these people,” I said to Cynthia as I returned to the apples. “He has a sensitive nature. Also please accept my apologies that I asked you to speak to them.”

Cynthia gave me a tremulous smile. “I notice you don’t include me with Mr. Thanos’s sensitivity. But no need to beg my pardon. I volunteered. I imagine that, to catch a criminal, one must encounter all sorts of unsavory people.”

“Indeed,” I said. “I thank you for your help. You and Miss Townsend both.”

Miss Townsend gave me a nod. Cynthia drained her tea. “We are backward, Mr. Thanos and me. He went home to put a cold compress on his head, and I went out and calmed my nerves with strong drink.”

Tess laughed at that, but I did not respond. It did not matter, I believed, what each part of a couple did, only that they enjoyed their companionship and deeper feelings.

The conversation had changed something in me, however. A new determination awoke to end this, find the children, and punish whoever had taken them within an inch of their lives. I was only a cook, but I would not stand by while people like the Woolners prowled among children. I would do whatever it took, or order men like Inspector McGregor to go out and stop them.

Cynthia pushed out of her chair. “I’m off to see if Bobby is still alive after our libations last night. You all right here, Judith?”

“I am. And Bobby is well, if a bit groggy and a slugabed.” Miss Townsend showed no embarrassment that she knew this. “She will likely welcome a visit about now. I will finish here and then speak to people about the Woolners.”

“Right.” Cynthia stretched, her body lithe in the well-fitting clothes. “Tell Auntie I’ll be in for supper, Mrs. H.” She moved easily into the hall, as though her burden had lessened, and we heard her on the back stairs, her step light.

Once the kitchen had quieted except for Tess’s humming and the sound of my paring knife, Miss Townsend closed her notebook.