It was my turn. “Let me telephone Dad. This might buy you some time, enough to complete your order at least. Dad can be very persuasive.”

Gertrude sighed. “Kate, you are a wonder woman.”

“I’ll do it now.”

Gertrude turned to Eliot. “I told you. I said we should have Kate on our side.”

The one good thing about the morning’s events was that Gertrude had forgotten the poison pen letters.

Dad listened. As expected, he pointed out the murder enquiry was not his investigation. He would be trespassing on CID territory. I was ready for that. “This is a civil matter, Dad, preventing unrest. No one wants another march to the prison, especially by workers in the employ of the Lord Lieutenant’s deputy. If the millworkers know something is being done –”

His sigh came over the wires. “As it happens, some anonymous seeker after justice has engaged a fast-talking legal representative for the accused.”

He paused, letting it sink in that he knew very well I was that person.

“I’ll ask the local constable to go there now and pass that on. It might do the trick. Tell your friends I will do what I can.”

Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Mrs. Sugden and Sergeant Dog busied themselves in the front garden, Mrs. Sugden doing a bit of pruning and weeding, Sergeant Dog sniffing his little heart out.

The furniture van drew up outside. Sergeant Dog immediately took an interest. “Not for us,” Mrs. Sugden said to him. “We’ve all the furniture we need.”

Someone climbed from the driver’s seat. He must need directions.

Mrs. Sugden straightened up.

The van had a Wakefield address. The fellow opening the gate seemed familiar, and yet she had never seen him before.

He took off his cap. “Mrs. Sugden?”

“Aye.”

“I’m Philip Goodchild, next door neighbour to the Hoods, Kate’s friend from when we were little.”

“Ah, hello, Mr. Goodchild. You’re the one who looks after cars.” She understood why he was familiar. Mrs. Shackleton had sung his praises. She called him the professor of motorcars.

“I’m come to take you to Wakefield on a job.”

“Oh?”

“Kate said you’d catch a train, but I can take you there.”

“That’s kind.”

“I don’t need to be home just yet. I don’t need to look at Mr. Battersby’s garage. I’ve seen it.”

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

“No thank you.”

“Well just come in and tell me what this job is, and I’ll get my coat.”

Philip stroked the dog. “He can come with us.”

*   *   *

During the several miles between Leeds and Wakefield, Mrs. Sugden worked out what she would do first.

A building, Stoneville, on York Street, would not be going anywhere. An estate agent might be shutting up shop early for his midday meal. She would try the estate agents first.