‘I had no choice,’ I told her. ‘I was gambling on my life. I threatened to tell everyone that he killed his wife, and he said that if he spared mine, I was to help him get you back. But I didn’t realize quite what a monster he is. He means to take you and keep you prisoner.’ I couldn’t stop myself now. ‘He sent me up to Greyfriars to find you. He wants me to deliver you to him. If we don’t go to his apartment, he will find us both. We are in danger, Dorothy.’

‘We must run away this instant,’ she hissed, gripping my arm. ‘Both of us now – what do you say? We can get a night-coach to London. I know where they depart from. It’s not even far from here. We have good clothes on and we have the money in my purse, and we can take lodgings near Covent Garden. What say you?’

‘I am not running away from anyone, ever again,’ I insisted. I grasped her arm back. ‘And neither are you. Come, we will go to Aunt Jenever’s Gin Shop for a nightcap and we will talk this over. Dr McTavish is not expecting us ’til after midnight anyway.’

I knew Aunt Jenever would help. Even more so, I believed Cornelius or some of the lads he knew would help. For if there is one thing men like Cornelius loathe, it is a hangman.

Cornelius made us stay at Aunt Jenever’s, so the truth is that I do not know what happened up at Dr McTavish’s apartment last night, only that a couple of lads got together – one of their own dear pals had been hanged a year or so past, just a small-time thief – and they felt that whatever might happen to Dr McTavish would be well deserved.

‘I don’t think I am a lover of coffee,’ Cornelius declares now.

Dorothy takes delicate sips of hers, but I have no thirst for mine.

‘If we are ever asked – if the constables should come knocking and asking questions about whether we saw anything unusual last night – the answer is that we all had a nightcap of gin in this very room and then went to sleep,’ says Cornelius. ‘Are we clear on that?’

We nod solemnly.

‘Is he quite dead?’ whispers Dorothy. There is a tremble on her lip.

Cornelius places his hand on hers and she looks up at him. I think she is startled by his gentleness.

‘Hanged from his own rafters, by a length of good hemp rope,’ mutters Cornelius.

I blink away the image. I do not want to think of it. I decide to leave them to their coffee and go upstairs. Aunt Jenever is getting herself ready to face the world. Her room is a chaos of robes and bloomers.