LITMIR.BIZ

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varying in intensity and accuracy with the character of the speaker. Rose was mostly liked and respected as an employer, but inevitably she had her critics. One of these, a stockroom assistant called Ted Tipper who had clashed more than once with Rose on union matters, had said that he had heard that Rose herself had been questioned about the finding of the red boots in Steve’s sports bag. The general reaction was that perhaps she had, perhaps she hadn’t. Ted was a man working in a factory run by women for women and he appeared to resent it. He had a harried existence.

      ‘Ask Dagmar.’ If anyone was close to Rose, it was Dagmar.

      ‘You know she won’t talk. It’s a fact of life that Dagmar will not talk about Rose. Whether that means she loves her or hates her, I’ve never felt sure.’

      Gabriel ignored that comment. In her opinion Dagmar Blond had total loyalty to her employer and love did not come into it. The roots were probably economic and historical.

      ‘Well, Steve’s back. He’s gone to school, as far as you know. It’s a nothing; I should ignore it.’

      ‘But they’ve found a dead body. And not far away from here.’

      ‘Not the body of the boy who is missing, though. Not the boy from Hook Road School. I mean, the body that’s been found had nothing to do with Steve or Rose.’

      As far as Gabriel saw it, that was how that matter rested, but she could see that the workrooms couldn’t leave it there. They enjoyed the idea, whether they would admit it or not, that their employer might be mixed up with murder. It gave them a thrill. Murder of a child was the English crime.

      ‘I don’t see Rose as a child murderer.’

      ‘I’m not saying so. Of course not. None of us would say that. But she came into work with red eyes. She’d been crying.’

      Gabriel shrugged. ‘Leave it.’

      ‘I don’t think we can. The boy that is missing, the one with the red boots, is nephew to Lily Bates.’

      Lily Bates was one of the older members of the sewing room; she had worked in Bianca Mosca’s salon as an apprentice before her marriage and was much respected by her fellows.

      Gabriel looked down at her hands.

      ‘I didn’t know that.’

      ‘You don’t know everything on the shop floor. Anyway, Lily’s been away sick. But she’s back today. We have to say something to Rose.’

      ‘I suppose what you are saying is that if I don’t, then Lily will.’

      ‘She’s come back to say something. Have you seen her?’

      Gabriel hesitated. ‘You don’t mean she’d attack Rose?’

      Shirley gave a shrug. ‘If she thinks Rose or her son know anything about her nephew, then I think she’d tear them apart to find out.’

      ‘The police can’t think so.’ If they had then they’d have hung on to Steve. Of course, he was only a kid, but still …

      From the door Dagmar said: ‘Thought I’d find you two here.’ She made it an accusation. ‘Mrs Hilaire wants you, Shirley … And Gaby, we can’t match the trimmings for the blue chiffon shirt dress, not at our price … Rose says it’s up to you.’

      She let the door shut with a bang. No other comment was needed.

      Shirley said without rancour: ‘She heard all that. She’ll go straight to Rose.’

      ‘Save us, then!’

      Gaby opened the rest-room door and, still clutching her mug of coffee, sped off down the passage to the stockrooms; she knew from experience that the discord usually started there. Even when she had gone to considerable trouble to find trimmings that were right and at the agreed price, they usually got it wrong. Like all well-trained recruits from Paradise Street, she suspected graft somewhere. Probably someone’s cousin somewhere had a factory that … She never had to finish the sentence, but ended with the word money.

      As she sped along she did not miss the air of suppressed excitement everywhere. So they did really believe that Steve Hilaire was in trouble. Nasty.

      Ted Tipper hurried through the corridors, he felt the atmosphere and did not enjoy it. A whole workforce of women alarmed him anyway. He passed Gabriel warily, she was not one of those he specially feared, but you had to be careful. He went into the cubbyhole he had built for himself out of packing boxes so that he could swallow an indigestion tablet in private. No one had any idea of the pressures a man could be under.

      Gabriel had a rapid and scorching interview with Theda, the head of the stockroom, then turned into her art-room. She was immediately aware that there was someone there: Sitting in her chair, and staring out of the window.

      ‘Lily!’ The last person she had expected in her room, where hardly anyone came. Dagmar penetrated occasionally and so did Shirley. Rose rarely. She summoned you when she wanted you, a pattern of behaviour that Gabriel meant to emulate in her turn one day.

      ‘Lily, what is it? Do you want me?’

      Lily did not move, she hardly looked at Gabriel. ‘No. This is the only quiet place I could find to be on my own. And I wanted a rest.’

      ‘You don’t look well.’

      And it was true. Lily, who never looked robust, was pinched and frail with a blue mark like a bruise on each cheekbone beneath the eyes.

      ‘I’ve just had a bit of bad news.’

      ‘Oh Lily, what?’ Gabriel drew up the only other chair and sat down beside her.

      Musingly, almost to herself, Lily said: ‘Gave it to myself, you might say.’

      Gabriel sat quiet.

      ‘You know what I’m talking about?’

      ‘Sort of.’ Gabriel bent her head. ‘Your nephew.’

      ‘Yes … Been gone for weeks. Dear little chap. Always small for his age, but wiry. Called me Aunty Billy for Best-loved Aunt Lily.’ Then she said, ‘You heard about his boots?’

      ‘Yes.’ What else was there to say?

      ‘I’ve been away ill … Not so much ill as upset. Not mental.’

      ‘Of course not.’

      ‘Nothing like that. Doctors said I should have a rest from work. Put me on Valium. Ever had it?’

      Gabriel shook her head.

      ‘I knew I’d got to come back when I heard last night about Steve having the boots … and that other little boy’s body.’

      ‘I didn’t know it was a boy, that wasn’t in the papers. Are you sure you aren’t jumping to conclusions?’

      ‘The policeman that lives in the house is a friend of a neighbour, he let him know.’

      ‘Good lord, that’s what he is: a policeman.’ Gabriel had wondered what John Coffin worked at and now she knew.

      ‘Yes … A little lad, it was. Been there some time.’

      ‘Well, then it’s not your nephew.’

      ‘The police think he might be another one. One in a row.’

      It was possible. If there was one murdered boy there might be another. But at the moment the connection must be mostly in the mind, although she could understand how Lily’s imagination must seize upon it. Unless the police had some hard information making a connection that Coffin had not passed on to Lily’s friend. That was possible too.

      ‘That’s just pub talk.’

      ‘No, I found something.’ She dropped the statement into the conversation like a lead weight.

      Gabriel felt it hit her.

      ‘What

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