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He realized if he went ahead with his plan, he would be breaking the law, which he accepted was an even greater offence if you’re a law officer, and if he was caught he could end up with a long prison sentence. But if he didn’t go ahead, Faulkner would once again get away with it, and heaven knows what else he had up his sleeve for encores.

Ross also accepted that his chances of pulling off the coup had to be less than fifty-fifty, not least because he couldn’t discuss his idea with anyone, even Alice. She would have told him in no uncertain terms her views on the morality of the whole idea, and she certainly wouldn’t have given his chances of getting away with it as any better than ten per cent – though he wasn’t in any doubt she would have understood why he felt he had to do it.

William would have disapproved on principle and made his position clear from the outset, but as Faulkner had beenresponsible for Avril’s death, he would have understood why Ross had decided he had to travel down that particular road.

The Hawk wouldn’t have been at all surprised by Ross’s strongly held beliefs. He would still have been left with no choice but to accept his resignation with regret, although he might have admitted, when looking in the shaving mirror, ‘If I were twenty years younger, I might well have done the same thing myself.’

Ross’s noncommittal comments over supper the evening after his visit to Lady Hartley had caused Alice to ask, ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

‘I’ve got a problem at work,’ he admitted, which had the virtue of being half true.

What he didn’t tell her was he’d made up his mind to go ahead with his particular brand of risk-taking and if, as a result, he had to resign – or even worse – so be it.

•••

Ross waited until William turned up for work before he rang Artemisia on her mobile. His goddaughter picked up the phone almost immediately.

‘Have you by any chance kept in touch with Robert Hartley?’ he asked, hoping the question sounded casual.

Artemisia didn’t answer immediately. ‘Are you asking me as a policeman, my godfather or a friend?’ she eventually asked.

‘All three,’ said Ross.

‘He’s my boyfriend,’ admitted Artemisia. ‘In fact, I thought it might be him on the line, because hardly a day goes by when we don’t talk to each other. But why do you ask?’

‘He could help me with something I’m working on,’ said Ross.

‘Will it help his father?’ asked Artemisia. ‘Because that’s all I care about.’

‘I feel confident his father would approve – but that’s about as far as I can go at the moment.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ said Artemisia, sounding so much older than her years.

‘Because Ican’tanswer your question,’ admitted Ross. ‘However, what I can tell you is it won’t do Robert any harm and, in the long term, his family will be grateful.’

‘In which case, I’ll do anything I can to help.’

‘You can’t ask me how,’ said Ross, ‘but I know that Robert can recite the contents of a letter written by Thomas Jefferson in 1787 to one of his ancestors.’

‘Robert can recite the entire Declaration of Independence, including the two clauses Congress rejected,’ replied Artemisia. ‘I know, because I’ve heard him do it.’

‘One letter will be more than enough for what I have in mind,’ said Ross.

•••

Ross slipped out of the office early that afternoon without letting anyone know where he was going.

After a short journey on the tube, he spent a couple of productive hours in the Old Kent Road, searching for what he would require if he hoped to fool the aficionados and collectors alike. He strolled up and down a mile-long market that could supply almost anything a cash customer might need, from a sepia photo of Edward VII at Balmoral to a campaign medal from Mafeking. Ross visited several stalls, none of them interested in the twenty-first century.

He came away with half a dozen sheets of heavy letterpaper, three envelopes, two quill pens and a bottle of black ink, all of which you could have purchased in the same market over two hundred years ago.

•••

Ross took the following day off. He told Alice he might be home late, as if that was something unusual. He also let William know he wouldn’t be coming in to work that day, which only made him wonder what Ross was up to. He didn’t ask.

Ross left the house that morning before Alice had stirred, looked in on Jojo just before he departed and plonked a kiss on her forehead.

He jumped on a bus to King’s Cross from where he caught a train to Little Hampton in Yorkshire. He used the three-hour journey, one change, to go over his plan again and again.