‘I should have realised, too. The watchman who found the body – his statement says that he was based in Holborn, round the corner. I was reading in such a rush the first time.’ She pulled a face. ‘You saved my skin by guessing right. Jax would have been furious if we’d chosen wrong, with the answer right under my nose.’

‘It was a guess. A lucky one.’

‘Like the lucky guess that Sarah was really Sally,’ Nick said, nudging me. ‘And the lucky guess that Anne and Metyard would confront each other at the gully-hole.’

‘It made the most sense.’

Eliza took the coffee I handed her. ‘You sound down, Paige. Aren’t you happy?’

‘Happy?’ I echoed.

‘With your success.’

I looked between their smiling faces. Confused, I said, ‘But I wasn’t successful. Whatever Jaxon wanted to see from me earlier, he didn’t see it.’ When neither of them replied to this, I put down my cup. ‘Look, it’s lovely of you both to do this for me, but … I’d rather it was a clean break.’ My breath came short. They exchanged quizzical glances. ‘Please, just tell me. Is Jaxon going to let me go?’

‘Let you go?’ Eliza burst out laughing. ‘What?’

‘Oh, Paige – no. Of course not,’ Nick said gently. ‘I’ve come back from assignments empty-handed more times than I can count. Even Jaxon Hall doesn’t always get what he wants.’

‘You held Metyard back on your own. We can only repel spirits with spools.’ Eliza shook her head. ‘You’re a dreamwalker, Paige. Rarest of them all. Jax has always known that, but today, you gave him a taste of what you can do. Maybe you haven’t unlocked your gift to its full extent yet, but that’s fine. You can learn more, in time.’

My heart thumped. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ they said in unison.

‘You did a great job, as far as he’s concerned,’ Eliza said. ‘You guessed the real identity of the poltergeist. You were the one who suspected the spirits would return to the sewer.’ She reached into her knitted bag and produced the file marked M. ‘Chick Lane was clearly important to everyone involved in the crime. This is the transcript of the Metyards’ trial from the Old Bailey. Take a look at what Richard Rooker – Sally’s lover – said when he was testifying.’

I pulled the folder towards me and peered at where her finger rested. In the transcript, Richard Rooker was recounting a conversation he had overheard between Sarah and Sally.

I heard the daughter say to the mother, Mother, you are the Chick-lane ghost; remember the gully-hole.

‘The Chick-lane ghost,’ I said, and released a long breath. ‘So Metyard was known as that even in life.’