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. . . money . . . your gold cuff links.’
    ‘I wondered why the house was lit up like a Christmas tree. I thought you’d turned them on to guide me home.’
    When her aunt gave a bit of a sniffle Leo drew her close. ‘All right, Es, tell me about it.’
    ‘I think he was in the house before we caught the bus . . . I’d forgotten my purse you see, and we came back. I’m sure I left it on the dressing table but it was on the bed when we came back. I thought some money was missing, but I wasn’t certain. I could sense his presence too, and one of those shivery feelings . . . as though someone was watching me. I picked my nightgown up and put it back on the bed, and I closed the bedroom door when I left that second time. I rattled the handle to make sure it had latched. When we came back from shopping the nightgown was on the floor again, and the door had been opened and left open. It was as if he’d wanted to make sure I knew he’d been there. He could have been hidden under the bed or in the wardrobe that first time.’
    Leo’s other arm came protectively round her when she shuddered. He pressed a kiss against her forehead, as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. Meggie hoped that one day a man would love her as much as Leo loved Esmé.
    Leo’s gaze wandered her way, and he held out his arm and drew her into the circle. ‘How are you holding up, love . . . scared?’
    ‘Not any more, but I’m angry. The rotter stole the garnet ring Aunt Es gave me. I feel a bit safer now you’re home. Aunt Es thought it was a ghost at first,’ Meggie said with a shudder. ‘We were laughing about it all day . . . until we arrived home. We were just about to check and see if the spare key was still in the pot plant, in case he comes back.’
    ‘That was an invitation to come inside if ever I saw one. I’ll telephone a locksmith and have some new locks fitted to the front and back doors. They might have time to do it now.’
    They promised to come the next morning.
    By six o’clock the basement had been checked, the house secured and the spare key plucked from the pot. A list was made of the missing goods and the police informed.
    A thin man verging on middle age and answering to the title of Constable Duffy arrived. He accepted a cup of tea and a couple of ginger biscuits to go with it.
    ‘There have been a few burglaries recently. Another house further up the road was robbed a couple of days ago, not long after the fog rolled in. Luckily there was a police sergeant at hand. He said somebody had reported seeing a man loitering. He checked the house for the owner while she waited on the pavement. The robber got away with a large amount of money. The police officer wasn’t one of our chaps.’
    ‘His name wasn’t Sergeant Benjamin Blessing, by any chance, was it?’ Esmé asked.
    The constable offered her a sharp look. ‘That sounds familiar. Do you know him then?’
    ‘I’ve met him . . . on the same day you mentioned.’
    Meggie chimed in. ‘He helped me find my way here that same afternoon in the fog. He told me he worked at the station round the corner.’
    ‘There’s nobody by that name working in our patch.’ The man took out his notebook and licked the end of his pencil. ‘Do you have a description of this man? Miss Elliot . . . Mrs Thornton?’
    Meggie went first. ‘He was about six feet tall. His helmet was too big, it shaded his face.’
    ‘He was polite and his voice was quite . . . cultured, I suppose,’ Esmé offered.
    ‘And he did cryptic crosswords.’
    Meggie was the recipient of a surprised look. She shrugged. ‘He completed the one in my bedroom.’
    The man wrote it down. ‘Anything else?’
    Meggie stole a glance at his sensible black boots and remembered. ‘Sergeant Blessing wore brown shoes with his uniform . . . brogues, I think. I thought it odd.’
    ‘Why did you think it odd?’
    ‘Perhaps I should have said a coincidence more than odd. My stepfather has a pair