‘Don’t worry about the rest. It’s true, you should have reported this a long time ago. But I think you’ll find them understanding.’

She brushed a wisp of red hair off her forehead.

‘Rosa … how did she die … can you tell me …?’

‘She didn’t suffer,’ Madden had reassured her at once. ‘It was quick, very quick.’ He’d examined her face. ‘You must try to get over this,’ he had said earnestly, laying a hand on her shoulder. He had seen the depth of her feeling in her eyes; the sorrow that weighed on her now. ‘There’s no going back. You have your own life to live.’

She had nodded her thanks, murmuring some words that he didn’t catch, but before he could say more they had been interrupted.

‘Mr Madden …?’

Hearing his name called out he’d turned to see Bess Brigstock striding across the snow towards him. For the past few minutes she and Mary Spencer had been deep in conversation.

‘Could we have a word, do you think?’

‘When did this man appear exactly?’ Madden frowned.

‘Oh, a good three weeks ago.’

‘And he claimed to be a policeman?’

‘That’s what Evie said.’ Bess reinforced her words with a growl. And the MacGregors, too. He went to their farm first. They said he showed them what looked like a warrant card and wrote down their names and the names of their farmworkers. I asked Bob Leonard to find out who he was but he said he couldn’t have been a real policeman. He even spoke to his headquarters in Petersfield to make sure. They’d never heard of him. Bob said he might have been a burglar on the lookout for a place to rob.’ She saw the expression on Madden’s face. ‘I gather you don’t agree.’

‘He was up to no good, all right. But it sounds more like Quill. This private detective. We know he was looking for a Polish girl. That business of taking down names — that was just a front — a way of finding out if they were employing any foreigners. Of course once he’d met Eva he wouldn’t have had to search any further. It’s odds on he was given a description of her.’

‘By the man she saw in Paris that evening? The same one who killed the girl who worked for you.’

Madden nodded again. Bess had come prepared to take up the cudgels on her friend’s behalf, but after the brief explanation Madden had given, her attitude had changed and she had listened to him attentively.

‘The fact that nothing’s happened since may be a good sign,’ Madden went on. There’s some thought on the part of the police that Quill may not have passed the information on to his client. He was trying to extract as much money as he could from him, stringing out the enquiry. If so, he seems to have paid the price. He was murdered himself two nights ago.’

‘Good God!’ Bess’s face stiffened. ‘What kind of creature are we talking about?’ And when Madden failed to reply — he merely looked at her — she had added, ‘Well, I can see now why you and the police are so concerned. Until this man’s arrested Evie won’t be safe.’

‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell Mrs Spencer. I should have been more direct. Perhaps you could speak to her …?’

‘I will. You may depend on it.’ She glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll talk to her as soon as I’ve seen to Pickles.’

Brushing snow from her cheek, Bess turned to where her pony was standing still harnessed to the trap, frosty plumes issuing from his nostrils, and as she did so the door opened and Mary Spencer put her head out.

‘There’s a phone call for you, Mr Madden. It’s a Chief Inspector Sinclair calling from London. He says he’s got some good news.’

When he returned to the kitchen ten minutes later, Madden found Bess sitting alone at the table nursing a cup of tea.

‘Mary’s in the cellar seeing to the furnace,’ she said, nodding to a door at the end of the kitchen which stood open. She sent Evie upstairs to lie down for a while. The poor girl’s exhausted. Mary’s feeling guilty herself. Not only wouldn’t she listen to you when you tried to explain, but she’s failed to offer you anything to eat all day. Do have one.’

She pushed a plate of sandwiches that was lying on the table in front of her towards him.

‘She’s longing to hear your news,’ she added. ‘And so am I.’

The smile that accompanied these words softened her rough-hewn features, which Madden now saw in their entirety for the first time. During his absence Bess had shed not only her coat — revealing a pair of corduroy trousers and a seaman’s thick sweater beneath it — but her fur-lined cap with its earflaps as well. Her hair proved to be iron-grey in colour and cut short.

‘The police have tracked this man down. They know where he’s staying in London.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’ She gave a grunt which to Madden’s ears sounded more like a growl. There was a certainty about her solid presence he found reassuring. Her brown eyes held his with a steady gaze.

‘They haven’t laid hands on him yet. But I’m hoping it’s just a matter of time.’

Before he could say more, the sound of Mrs Spencer’s voice came to them from below, through the floor.

‘Freddie, are you down here?’ they heard her call out.‘Are you hiding?’

Glancing out of the window — he’d noticed that the snow had stopped falling — Madden saw a flicker of movement against the white backdrop.

‘He’s out in the yard,’ he told Bess, who looked over her shoulder and then called to Mary Spencer.

‘Freddie’s up here …’

After a few seconds they heard footsteps and their hostess appeared, brushing aside the branch of a Christmas tree which stood in a corner near the cellar door, puffing from the steps she’d just climbed.

‘There you are, Mr Madden.’ Her smile was like a peace offering. Please have something to eat. I feel I’ve been starving you all day.’

She opened the kitchen door and looked out.

‘Come in at once, Freddie,’ she called to her son. ‘I’ve already told you. No more playing outside today. And why haven’t you got your coat on?’

After a pause they heard the squeak of Wellington boots on the snow-covered steps and Freddie appeared, flushed in the face and with eyes that sparkled with mischief.

‘You didn’t see me, Mummy,’ he boasted.

‘Oh yes I did. You were hiding behind the snowman.’

‘Not then. Before.’

‘Before when? Oh, you mean down in the cellar. Of course I saw you. I suppose you went out of the door down there, even though you’ve been told not to. Now I’ll have to go down and lock it again. Honestly, you exhaust me.’

She flopped down on one of the chairs.

‘I’m so ashamed of myself, Mr Madden. I was quite beastly to you earlier, and all you were doing was trying to help. Please forgive me. Bess gave me a good talking to while you were on the phone.’ She smiled. ‘ hardly dare to ask, but is it true? Have you got some good news for us?’

‘Yes and no.’ Madden returned her smile. ‘The police have caught up with this man.’

‘Thank heavens.’ Mary Spencer put a hand to her breast. ‘Does that mean Evie can stay with us?’

‘I’m not sure. They haven’t actually laid hands on him yet. It might be as well not to say anything to her for the time being.’

It was a point Sinclair had stressed when he’d rung to report that the whereabouts of Raymond Ash were no longer a mystery. And to hear from Madden’s lips what he himself had learned in the course of the past half- hour.

‘I’m sorry if I have to disrupt their Christmas, John, but we can’t take any chances. Not after what you’ve told me. It’s obvious Quill found the girl. That must have been him asking questions down there. What we don’t know — still — is whether he told Ash.’

Nevertheless, on balance the latest developments had inclined the chief inspector towards optimism and he

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