‘I have the goods for you,’ Solly says, with a degree of weariness in his voice, when Ray leaves the shop. ‘For the Forties’ job you’re supposed to be doing today. Don’t you want to see?’

Ruby lingers at the bottom of the stairs, torn between needing to change her dress and wanting to see the jewellery.

‘I’ll lock the door.’ The jewels always win.

He scatters several rings, a bracelet and a brooch onto the counter, pushing them apart from one another so that she can take a closer look.

She examines each of them carefully, remembering the pieces from the jeweller’s shop.

‘Perfect. These are a close match to what I’ll lift.’

He puts a hand over the jewels to collect them up, pausing for a moment. ‘When you pick up the real stones, they’ll be worth a lot, Ruby. I mean a lot. You chose well.’ He scoops them into a velvet bag. ‘But you need to be careful. This isn’t a little place like Enderby’s, run by an old man and a silly girl. It’s the sort of store where they will be watching you. Like hawks.’

‘I know. I know what I’m doing.’

‘I know you do.’

He hands her the pouch and sighs.

‘I don’t like Ray Calladine any more than you do, Magpie. But we have to do business, don’t we?’

She opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again.

Gerald, Isabel and Harriet sit in silence, contemplating their lunch of cold cuts and potatoes. They are eating far later than usual, and Isabel has already commented that the meal is now ruined. Inspector MacKenzie left a quarter of an hour ago, having declined to stay. He did not want to intrude, and besides, he had said what he believed needed saying when he had brought Harriet home.

The fire roars in the hearth, but the stony atmosphere makes Harriet’s teeth chatter. She wishes that she might escape and return to her room, as if nothing has happened.

She has a miserable headache. Her eyes are red and puffy with crying. She has no appetite.

She gazes over at the chair that Ralph usually occupies on the occasions when he has joined them for dinner. Ordinarily, she would welcome his presence and support in such circumstances; he would know how to placate her parents. Instead, a maelstrom formed of several emotions swirls through her. She identifies each of them as she prods at the fat on a slice of ham. Rage, hurt, frustration, shame and, oddly, curiosity.