‘I tell you what, Richard. First thing tomorrow morning, you and I will visit the hospital.’

The matron was defensive and defiant, sitting with her back to the window in a small office overlooking the Thames, the Houses of Parliament neatly framed behind her. Her arms were folded tightly under an ample bosom and her head was tilted high, as if trying to pick up a particular smell.

‘Nothing we did was wrong or improper. We followed our procedures.’ Her accent was from somewhere in Ireland.

‘What I don’t understand is how this couple who adopted Henry left no trace?’

‘I shall explain again how these matters work, Mr Prince. When children are orphaned as a result of hostilities and there are no family or close friends to take them in, they are discharged as patients and sent to a children’s home, unless…’ she paused to underline the importance of that ‘unless’, ‘a suitable family is available to adopt them.’

The matron inhaled deeply. ‘From time to time we are approached directly by couples looking for a child to adopt. A Thomas and Susan Brown with an address in Croydon in south London had contacted us in January I believe it was. In my opinion they were suitable for adopting a child. In the case of this boy, when he was ready to be discharged I contacted Mr and Mrs Brown. I hope you can accept that however regrettable the situation is, we acted in good faith. If it’s any consolation, we have learned lessons from this.’

‘I can assure you it’s no consolation. And this couple,’ said Prince, ‘what were they like?’

‘They seemed pleasant enough,’ said the matron. ‘They said they had no children. I’d use the word nondescript to describe them. They seemed to be in their forties.’

‘And you have no address?’

‘We had the address in Croydon.’

‘Which turns out to be a boarding house.’

The matron smiled weakly. ‘Which of course I wasn’t to know at the time.’

Not a word was spoken as Richard Prince absorbed what he’d been told. His eyes filled with tears and he struggled to speak.

‘Were they nice people?’

The matron leaned across the table and placed her hand on his, her tone less defensive.

‘As I said, sir, they seemed nice enough; perhaps a bit formal, but then you must understand these are not easy situations – visiting a hospital, adopting a child at such short notice. I have no doubt he’ll be very well cared for. I hope you find them soon, and obviously if there’s anything we can do to help…’

‘It’s been what… a month now, Prince?’

‘One month, sir – almost to the day, in fact.’

They were in Tom Gilbey’s office in Broadway in central London. Gilbey was doing his best to appear sympathetic. ‘And Hendrie tells me there are still no leads?’

‘I’m afraid not, sir.’