came toward him, touching him lightly on the sleeve. “Do you feel up to it, Billy?”
With the semblance of a man in his sixties, not his thirties, Billy nodded. “Got to earn my keep, Miss.” He paused, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hook at the back of the door, along with his flat cap and scarf. A black cloth band stiched around the upper arm of his jacket signaled his state of mourning. “And to tell you the truth, what with one thing and another, it’s best for me, is this. Doreen’s sister started with the baby this morning, so there’s no room for me—or for Jim, ’e’s out looking for work again. So, it’s best if I’m out of it. Give something for Doreen to think about. They’ve got to get ready for the other nippers bein’ allowed ’ome soon as well. Anyway, the woman from up the road, the one who’s there for all the babies ’round our way, was just coming in the door when I was leaving, so I’m in no ’urry to go back there.”
“Is Doreen coping?”
“I should say she’s keepin’ ’er ’ead above the water, Miss. Just. It’s all a bit strange, to tell you the truth. There we are, you know, just lost our little girl, and there’s a baby about to come into the world. And what to? What sort of life is it? I tell you, Miss, I wasn’t goin’ to say nothin’, but me and Doreen’ve been talkin’ and we’ve laid it out for ourselves, for our boys.”
“Laid out what?”
“Plans, Miss.” Billy shook his head and leaned back against his desk. “There ain’t nothin’ ’ere for us, is there? Look at the place, look at it. I’ve got a trade, Miss, I’ve got this work with you, doin’ inquiries, under me belt, and look at me, I can’t keep me nippers safe. No, Miss, we’ve decided. We’re savin’ up, you know. To emigrate.”
“Emigrate?”
“Well, Miss, mate of mine in the war, ’e went over to Canada afterward. It was them Canadian boys tellin’ ’im all about it, you know. Took ’im until ’21 to afford passage.” Billy shook his head, recalling his friend. “Me mate wasn’t one to write, not the sort, but I got the odd postcard, you know, with ‘Hands Across the Miles’ on the front, and ’e says there’s a good life for men like me, men what ain’t afraid of a bit of ’ard graft, men what’ll work to make a better life for their families. I reckon we can put a bit by, me and Doreen—it’ll be easier when we ain’t got the extra mouths to feed—and we’ll go over there. Fred’s doin’ well, you know, got work, nice place to live, not all cramped up like we are in the East End, with all that river filth.”
Maisie was about to say something about acting in haste, about waiting for the weight of their loss to lift before leaving home behind them, but instead she smiled. “You’re a good father, Billy. You’ll do what’s best. Now then, unless you’re planning to sail to Canada this afternoon, we’d better get on. I have to leave for Dungeness later, but I want to ensure this is all put away and clear again before I go.” She turned to the desk. “Oh, and you’ll need these—keys for the new lock.”
Billy caught the set of keys Maisie threw to him. “Did we lose anything important, Miss?”
Maisie nodded. “The case map.”
SOME TWO HOURS later, Maisie and Billy had brought order to the chaos and were now sitting at the oak table in front of a length of pristine white lining paper of the type usually used by decorators, which they proceeded to pin to the wood.
“There, clean slate, Billy. We might see some links, some clues that have evaded us thus far.”
“I ’ope so, Miss. Bloomin’ lot of ’ard work down the drain if we don’t.”
Maisie took a red pen and began to draw a circle with Nick Bassington-Hope’s name in the center. “I want to see Arthur Levitt this morning, Billy, and I also want you to talk to your Fleet Street friend this afternoon, if you can.”
“Right you are, Miss.”
“All right then, let’s get on…”
They worked on the map until ten o’clock, whereupon the length of paper was rolled up and secured with a piece of string. Both Billy and Maisie looked around the room.
“Like I’ve said before, Miss, my old mum always said to ’ide somethin’ in plain view.”
“Well, in my haste I already did that, and look where it got me! No, we need a very safe place—and I don’t want to take it home.”
“I’ve got an idea, Miss.” Billy walked over to the fireplace, carefully edged out the gas fire that had been fitted to stand in front of an original grate designed for logs and coal. “Long as we don’t weaken the old gas line by pulling the fire back and forth, this should work for us, the old ‘up the chimney’ trick.”
“Seems a bit obvious to me, Billy, but until we think of something better, it will have to do. Here you are.”
Billy pushed the case map behind the gas fire, moved the fire back into position and checked to ensure the fuel line was not compromised by the exercise.
Scrutinizing the door several times to check the integrity of the lock, the pair were finally satisfied that the office was secure.
“Of course, you know the irony of all this checking and double-checking, don’t you?”
“What’s that, Miss?” Billy pulled up his collar against the wind.
“The men who broke into the office may well have what they want. And if they don’t, they’re going to try somewhere else.”
“Reckon you should get that Eric bloke ’round to do the lock on your flat.”
“I will. As soon as I get back from Dungeness.”
Slamming the passenger door of the MG behind him in a way that always made Maisie cringe, Billy added a final two-penn’orth of advice. “Of course, you know what you need, a woman alone in your position, don’t you, Miss?”
“What’s that?” Maisie might usually have reminded Billy that she was quite capable, thank you very much, but she was mindful of his fragile state and allowed him to continue.
“A bloomin’ great dog. That’s what you need. A big ’airy thing to mind you from these ’ere criminal types.”
She laughed as she drove toward Albemarle Street.
SEEING BILLY’S ARMBAND, Arthur
