Sykes was not to be discouraged. “It was them, Brockman and his butler Raynor, or Dell, or all of them. Which of them could carry a body? Not Brockman or Dell. They can push a pen. They can lift a knife and fork.”

“Benjie Brockman boxed for his school. And I know they both played rugby.”

“But would they get their hands dirty?”

For a few seconds, I was no longer here with Sykes and Mrs. Sugden. I was in Mrs. Dell’s drawing room. She was telling me about the conversation in the library, between Eliot Dell and Gertrude. Her voice came back to me. They were talking about Mrs. Farrar, and how stubborn she was, and that she had left them no choice. And then Eliot told Gertrude that there was blood on the cuff of her coat.

She was hard of hearing. Such an account was not reliable. If I told Sykes and Mrs. Sugden, Sykes would want this made known. I thought of frail and fearful Mrs. Dell, taking me into her confidence.

Sykes was waiting for me to answer his question as to whether I thought Brockman and Dell would get their hands dirty. It distressed me to think he might be right.

“Probably not.”

The most plausible explanation was that Benjie, Dell or Raynor had recruited out-of-work Kevin O’Donnell, who had then immediately left the area. “So it’s a trip to Liverpool, Mr. Sykes.”

“I can set off now.”

“Hang on. I might be coming too.”

Mrs. Sugden decided to be mother hen. “Mrs. Shackleton, think on! You’ve hardly slept. You’re not over that shocking accident yet. And why would you want to go to Liverpool?”

“I intend to stop those orphans being sent to Canada. They’re in a holding centre in Liverpool.” Martin Yeats had been thorough in his researches.

Sykes’s eyes widened. “Why stop them? They’re going to a great new country, open spaces, fresh air, a new start.”

“The youngest is four, the oldest is nine. Canada can wait.”

Chapter 53

Chapter Fifty-Three

Nothing happens without completion of the correct forms, and in this case the forms must be completed in triplicate. I needed signatures from Benjie, Gertrude and Eliot Dell, trustees of the Bluebell Home. They had authorised the emigration of eight children, and they must rescind the authorisation. I was not sorry that Sykes had insisted on coming along. Since my car was out of action, we travelled in Sykes’s motor. I had advised Alec Taylor to come, too, and at least let Benjie know that he was safe and well. Whatever else Benjie had done, or failed to do, he was fond of Alec.

Alec climbed out of the dickey seat to open the gates to Thorpefield Manor. “My legs have gone into cramp.”

“Mine too, but from the cold!”