Ed borrowed his father’s Land Rover to take Ellen to Whalley, where they caught a train to Blackburn.

‘I don’t know much about Blackburn beyond the main shops,’ said Ellen, when, after the short journey, they emerged from the station to a busy late afternoon as people bustled around to finish their shopping before the shops closed. ‘I have only the names of these fellas: Joshua Hellman, Alfred Barker and Sidney Simmonds.’

‘Well, if, as your uncle Tom reckons, they are pawnbrokers or dealers in second-hand jewellery, I’d say we’ll need to look off the main street, away from the big shops. They’ll be modest and discreet premises, I reckon.’

‘Yes … Oh, look, there’s a policeman over there.’ Ellen sped away down the street after the uniformed bobby.

By the time Edward had joined her, she was noting down directions and nodding. ‘Thank you … yes, thank you.’ She smiled and the constable looked charmed.

‘Oh, Ed, we’re in luck. That helpful policeman knew of two of these people and their premises are just round the corner. Come on. We want to catch them both before they close.’

They went to the nearer place first, following carefully what Ellen had written down. Three golden spheres, the sign for a pawnbroker’s business, were suspended high up on an ornate bracket, visible from the end of the narrow street, and Ellen hurried to the door of the place, Ed jogging to keep up with her.

‘Alfred Barker: Loans’ said the sign over the front window. The window, grimy in the sooty air, was filled with an assortment of items: jewellery, small pieces of furniture, a dinner service, candlesticks, a stuffed squirrel and a fur coat among them.

Ellen turned to Edward and pulled a face and he shrugged.

‘We’ll just have to ask nicely,’ he said. ‘I’ve no idea how to go on at these places.’

He went ahead and opened the door, and a bell jangled. Inside, the dim premises were untidy, with items piled up and every surface covered. Some of these surfaces were large pieces of furniture with labels attached, and there was a glass counter dominating the small space in the middle.

‘Good afternoon,’ said a man’s voice. Ellen and Edward looked around but could see no one.

A rather short man stepped out from behind a dressmaker’s mannequin. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Ellen. ‘Are you Mr Barker?’

‘I am, miss. What can I do for you?’

‘I’m looking for a lady who I think might have come here, most recently in February – Mrs Beveridge …?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know her,’ he said.

‘Oh, but she’s been here a few times. She looks like … a bit like me,’ said Ellen. ‘She’s … a friend.’