James called this ‘redistribution’, meaning the items, which were sold to James quickly and cheaply by the thieves, were then sent, or brought by James himself, to Grindle Hall, many miles from where they had been stolen in London and the south of England. Then they would be sold on to people who would put them back on the market at something like their true value, leaving him a decent profit margin. Sometimes James had had to deal with what Gina thought were rather shady characters who acted as go-betweens for him and the northern dealers, such as that rough-looking fella at the Duke of Clarence last year, but since coming in on his business, Gina had objected to sharing the profit with these intermediaries, and, as she said to James, the fewer people involved, the safer the business. So now James made very few visits to the Duke of Clarence or Providence Street, Blackburn.

Now the goods were disposed of via the pawnbrokers of Manchester, Preston and Blackburn, and, of course, there was always Bella Bertolli, the tall, dark lady at the Tom and Tabby in Blackpool.

Bella, whose real name was not Bertolli and who was not Italian, had a sister with a little shop somewhere in the Lake District, where visitors could browse the pretty pieces of jewellery and pay decent money for souvenirs of their holidays. Bella’s sister knew nothing of where the items Bella brought to her originated, and nor did she enquire. She bought jewellery and other artefacts from many sources and chose to think that all were legitimate.

Gina took the letters Arthur had brought up to Mrs Stellion, who was sitting in the morning room, looking pale. Coco got out of his basket to say good morning, his stumpy tail wagging madly.

‘How are you this morning, Mrs Stellion?’ asked Gina, patting the dog.

‘Oh, Gina, dear, I could hardly get out of bed. I find the mornings so dark now and it’s quite exhausting. It’ll be dark still until Easter.’

‘Well, it’s a way to go yet, true – it’s only the beginning of March – but it is getting better.’

‘Oh, don’t, dear! How can I bear all those dark weeks ahead? It’s worse every year, I’m sure of it. By the time it’s 1960, I think it’ll be dark most of the year.’

‘I don’t reckon it works like that, Mrs Stellion,’ Gina said drily. ‘And anyway, Diana will be coming at the weekend for the birthday celebrations, so you’ve every reason to be cheerful. You hadn’t forgotten?’

‘No, of course not, Gina. Something lovely to look forward to. I don’t know if James is coming, too. I hoped he might make it for his father’s birthday, but he says he’s very busy at the moment. There’s a concert in Manchester I’d like us to go to, if I can still get tickets.’