Yesterday – that’s Friday – I made a mistake. A gross herror, like Hitler’s invasion of Russia. If I’d concentrated on Link I might have had him, but I didn’t. Instead I went looking for boots. Reconditioned Army boots.

Not for me. Oh, no. My marching days are over, as you know. These were for my army. The Camden Horizontals, as I’ve christened ’em. Four pairs I needed, all different sizes, and I got ’em, too, in Bethnal Green. ‘Course they’re not a perfect fit, none of ’em, but then they don’t need to be. My lads’ll not be doing a lot of yomping, so it doesn’t matter if the footwear’s a bit slack or a bit snug. All it has to do is shine, and it does.

Anyway, I lost my chance yesterday, and when I picked up his trail this morning he bumped into some tart in a caff up the market and they left together, so it’s not going to be easy. I’ll have to fall back. Re-group. Devise fresh tactics. And I’m the feller who can do it. By golly I am.