I knew that Sykes felt bad about making the wrong choice at Eliot Dell’s house. He saw that as his first big mistake in all the time we had worked together, and was being extra cautious now.

It was a tempting idea to have him standing by. Yet for Sykes, there would be no nuances. Kevin O’Donnell would be culpable or blameless.

Sykes was still inclined to argue, so I put a stop to it. “I have to do this, and not just for the sake of regaining confidence after tumbling down those stairs.”

He gave a kind of growl. “You didn’t tumble, you were pushed.”

“That is why I must interview Mr. O’Donnell myself. We should never plan our next move based on what went wrong before.”

In the face of such impeccable logic, Sykes recognised defeat.

*   *   *

The obliging taxi driver opened the car door, helped me out and waited outside the Burkes’ house. Fortunately Mrs. Burke knew her husband’s rounds inside out. He had come home at dinnertime. She had given Bonnie, the horse, her drink of water, oats and a carrot. Now himself was delivering to the big houses on Princes Avenue and Princes Road, all round there. I climbed back into the taxi, idly wondering what himself had for his dinner, or whether Bonnie was the one who really mattered.

For discretion’s sake, I asked the taxi driver to stop at the top of Princes Avenue and wait for me there. I walked down Princes Road, to where I had seen the horse and cart. I sat down on a low garden wall, to wait.

The wiry coal merchant came out of a house on my left. He was about to pick up another bag when I interrupted him.

“Mr. Burke!”

He paused, looking not displeased to take a break. “Aye that’s me.”

“Mrs. Burke told me I’d find you here. I’m a friend of Josh Whitwell who took Mr. O’Donnell’s photograph.” I held the envelope with the picture I had copied and mounted—Giant Jack next to Mrs. Whitwell. “When I told Josh I would be in Liverpool today, he asked if I would bring it for him.”

He sniffed and spat out coal dust. “Well he’s famous across Liverpool. He’s had proposals of marriage and offers of work, but I got in first.”

“So if it’s all right with you, I’ll have a word with him. Not to propose.” As I stood, my cloak fell open. “The proposal can wait until my arm mends.”

He laughed. “Chat away, queenie. Do Kev good to have a break.”

Kevin had come from the house next door. Mr. Burke spoke to him, and pointed to me.

He approached cautiously, taking off his cap, twisting it in his big hands, black with coal dust. He was too big to sit comfortably on a low wall, but did so, stretching his legs.