There are at least two dozen clocks, of all kinds, in the window. Ruby might spend hours peering at them, if she didn’t have work to do. The intricacies of the mechanisms, the painted faces, the different number styles… But she needs to go.

‘Alright. I shouldn’t be too long, but I can’t rush this. It’s not smash and grab.’

‘Be careful.’

Ruby rolls her eyes at Maggs and grins. She is always careful.

She waits at the jewellery shop door and dips a hand into her coat pocket one final time, as if touching the velvet pouch will bring her luck, like a rabbit’s foot.

The unsmiling doorman opens it to her. It is a different man this time, even though he has the same blank expression as the last. The assistant behind the counter is also most certainly not the bird-like jeweller she met on Monday. Everything is as it should be. Annie Richmond has, of course, done her research.

Ruby is the only customer in the shop. In the warm glow of the early evening light, she stands ready to inspect the items she already knows well.

She had been unnerved, on her last visit, to discover that the older man behind the counter shared an acquaintance with the Littlemores. She had considered adopting a different story to avoid raising suspicion, but today’s assistant is younger, less authoritative, not so sharp-eyed, so she talks again of a forthcoming birthday and wealthy parents wishing to buy her a gift, confident that the two pairs of ears hearing it will not know it already. She adopts the same manner, the same tone, the same phrases as before – why change what worked so perfectly?

This assistant is more obsequious than the previous man. He does not ask the name of her supposed parents, but instead sets about trying to show off his knowledge. She listens with patient interest as he tells her about the stones, even though he cannot match her own expertise. She nods and smiles prettily, knowing that if she flatters him with her attention, he will be unlikely to notice anything else.

She removes her gloves in order to try on one or two rings, holding her hand to the light, better to inspect the gleam of the diamonds. She passes a comment that makes the assistant smile warmly, even as he turns to find another tray for her.

It is so easily done. A sleight of hand. He does not see her nestle Solly’s paste affair in the velvet slot. And then another two rings.

The doorman is unconcerned, gazing out of the window, probably waiting for his day to end.