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Alasdair shared a glance with Roger, who gave a helpless gesture in response. “In that case, we must thank you again for all the help you’ve given us and now we should go and rescue Toby and Jonny.”

When the party reached the back bedroom, it was plain that neither Toby nor Jonny seemed like they needed rescuing. Mrs Brook had apparently produced an album of photos and clippings featuring stage productions from the turn of the century, with which she was regaling her visitors. That and a bottle of sherry, appeared to have been making the time pass most pleasantly.

“Hello, each! We’ve been having a lovely chat.” A gleam in Toby’s eye seemed highly suggestive of discoveries made, although perhaps that was only the excellence of the sherry at work. “Thank you for your hospitality all round, ladies. It’s been a most entertaining and fruitful afternoon.”

“I’m glad it’s been useful.” Vera was looking increasingly uncomfortable, maybe still torn between what she’d said and left unsaid. Or perhaps having second thoughts, which would explain why she’d clammed up about Alexandra.

“Now,” Mrs Brook said, “I’ve had a lovely time, but what if my Vera gets to the office on Monday and somehow word of your visit has got around. It’s not like you two have faces that could be mistaken for anyone else, especially in combination. You’ve a reputation, too, for sleuthing and that Billy Chapman has a way of snooping stuff out.”

“Mother’s right. I think I’ve got a bit carried away this afternoon, getting stuff off my chest, yet the nub remains that I can’t afford to lose my job. You’ve assured me that all will be well but fine words butter no parsnips.”

“Then don’t turn up at the office,” Toby said. “Call in sick or whatever your conscience will allow you to do in the way of bending the truth. Instead, get yourself to the Landseer site on Monday morning at ten o’clock, go to the reception desk and ask for Sir Ian Sheringham’s secretary, Miss Duckworth. She’ll be expecting you at some point. Do you need anything for expenses?”

“I don’t think so.” Vera, evidently bewildered, glanced at her mother, who seemed equally perplexed. “The studio’s only a short walk from Woodford Station, I believe. But why am I to see her?”

“Because there’s a job interview lined up, for a position Landseer would love to offer you. Miss Duckworth’s assistant is about to leave and they’ve not been able to find an acceptable candidate to fill the role. It would save her lot of work to have someone highly capable ready to ease into place, especially if you could work a handover period with the existing assistant. Sir Ian says they’ll need references, of course, although they can take them up from folks other than your present employers.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Vera burst into tears.

“You don’t know how happy this makes me, young Toby.” Mrs Brook produced a voluminous hankie to blow her nose. “I hate what Herbert and Chapman do, but because of me, Vera’s had no choice except to stick it for so long. Thanks for giving her an option.”

“It’s the least we can do.” Toby bowed over Mrs Brook’s hand, then over Vera’s, a moving gesture that made Alasdair’s heart leap as wildly as it had when they first met.

“It’ll probably be safer for you away from Eagle Street, as well,” he said. “We’ll leave you two to share what’s been said in our conversations, while the four of us do the same. I daresay we’ve all got something to learn.”

***

They decided not to go in search of a taxi immediately, given how much they had to discuss. Instead, they took themselves off in the direction of some green areas they’d passed en route and which seemed ideal for having a private conversation while on the hoof.

As soon as they were out of earshot of Vera’s house, Alasdair said, “Why didn’t you tell us about Sir Ian’s offer of a job?”

Toby snorted. “I felt like taking a leaf from Jonny’s book, and maintain a bit of mystery. I also didn’t want any hint getting out until after we’d spoken to Vera. No chance of tainting the evidence because of her wanting to make a good impression.”

“How did you wangle it?” Roger asked.

“We’ve kept Sir Ian informed at all points,” Toby said, “so when I picked his brains about making a reluctant yet possibly vital witness tell all, he and Miss Duckworth cobbled the plan together. There really is a vacancy, by the way, and a reliable employee who can keep her mouth shut when she needs to would be ideal to fill it. If the Carstone business gets to a public court it’ll impact on Landseer, although no doubt Sir Ian will ensure the studio comes out of it smelling of roses.”

“From what you’ve said about Sir Ian, everything will be turned into good publicity,” Jonny observed. “Mind you, given what old Mrs Brook was saying, I do wonder how many people are taken in by the nonsense your publicity department spouts.”

“Plenty, I believe,” Alasdair said. “Not everyone will be as shrewd as those women we met today.”

Roger brought them to a halt. “Hold on. Why if it comes to court rather than when ?”

Toby shrugged. “I had in mind the intertwined nature of the cases. If an attack on the coronation can be both prevented and kept quiet, any case against the plotters may be heard behind closed doors, so as not to panic the public. If Carstone’s death was occasioned to stop him shopping them, that too may be heard in private so no publicity would accrue.”

“I see.” Roger walked on. “Of course, if Chapman, Salt and Archer are found guilty of high treason, they won’t be around to stand trial for Carstone’s murder. You can only be hanged once.”

Alasdair, with a shudder, turned the subject to what they’d learned today, giving Toby and Jonny a report of what Vera had told them, all bar the final bit about Alexandra, which he hadn’t made a decision on. That remark could have arisen through pure jealousy, for example because of how much Fred was supposed to be smitten with the girl.

“It’s clear Vera doesn’t like her employers,” Roger added, when Alasdair had finished, “and I don’t think it was an exaggeration when she said she doesn’t want to end up under a train like Carstone. I suspect she won’t be going into the office again. Fred will have to pick up anything she’s left there.”

Alasdair nodded. “I hope she comes up with a good enough excuse for them not to smell a rat. A convenient illness, maybe. Not life threatening but highly contagious and lasting long enough for Matthew to do whatever he needs to.”

“He’s going to be pleased with what we’ve rooted out, on top of anything Neil provides.” Toby itemised the points on his fingers. “A possible venue for skullduggery, a witness willing to give a statement who sounds like she’d be highly credible in court, and another person for him to grill, meaning Lloyd. Unless Matthew’s already hauled him in, which is another interview I’d like to be part of but won’t have the chance. Let’s hope the net is tightening sufficiently that none of them can slip through to wreak havoc.”

“So I should jolly well hope.” Alasdair slowed the pace and awaited a revelation he felt sure was about to come from Toby. Knowing the man too long and too well had made him alert to subtleties of face and tone.

He didn’t have to wait long. “Well, we have something to report, too, concerning another one of the characters in this fandango. Mrs Brook isn’t one to mince words and as soon as you’d gone, she had plenty to say about Alexandra, who was also presented at their bungalow for that ‘do’ Fred attended.”

“No love lost there,” Jonny said. “Mrs Brook thinks she’s a scheming minx, an habitual flirt and a nasty little liar, in no particular order. None of those are to do with her being pregnant, by the way—we dropped that into the conversation and it both came as no surprise and produced no opprobrium. She has quite modern views, Mrs Brook.”

“What led her to those opinions, then?” Roger asked.

“What she’d heard from Vera and what she saw with her own eyes both at the party and an another occasion when they happened to be at the same cinema for a film. Mrs Brook said Alexandra went all doe eyed and ‘Oh, look at little helpless me’ any time a man was in the offing, Fred included. The old lady can’t abide that sort of behaviour at the best of times and when a girl has a chap of her own—she knew about Nicholas from the office—then said girl shouldn’t be trying to inveigle herself with any other males.”

“That takes care of ‘flirt’,” Alasdair said, “although Alexandra wouldn’t be alone in that behaviour. You should see some of the starlets at Landseer. What about ‘scheming minx’ and ‘liar’?”

“Partly based on what she’d heard from Vera, because one of the chaps Alexandra flirted with was Carstone and yes, it was reciprocated. Mrs Brook reckons that we should ask Vera about how Carstone ended up on that platform at that time because she’s convinced Alexandra got him there and not under coercion.” Toby paused. “Why doesn’t that seem to be the bombshell I expected?”

Alasdair patted his shoulder. “Because we’d already got a hint of it. Vera said that Alexandra was nobody’s victim and when we discussed Carstone being lured, she said that Alexandra wouldn’t be pressured into doing anything she didn’t want to. I hadn’t mentioned that because I wondered if the remark was simply bitchiness.”

“I doubt it,” Jonny said. “I trust Mrs Brook’s judgement and if she reckons Alexandra left the firm because of what she’d done—a case of conscience catching up with her—I’d give that theory due consideration.”

“So would I.” Toby nodded. “I’m glad we’ve heard all this before we meet her. Puts a different slant on things.”

“Do you know, the aged relative once told me that there often comes a point in a case where it feels like you’ve been holding a picture the wrong way up or need to see it in a mirror.” Jonny made a turning gesture with his hands. “Suddenly what you thought was one thing turns out to be quite another. If that makes sense.”

“It does indeed,” Alasdair said. “We’ve seen it already in this case, for example with the false claims of special powers, so why not with Alexandra? The victim who is anything but.”

“Wait a minute.” Toby bounced on his toes. “Somebody said something.”

“I think people say things all the time, Toby,” Alasdair sniggered.

“Ha bloody ha. I mean—no, I’ve got it. Richard.” Toby snapped his fingers. “Richard, who can’t predict the length of a sermon but who seems to have a sharp eye for women. He said that Alexandra was glowing at that last meeting. He assumed it was about her new job, I assumed it was her being pregnant, but what if it was about Carstone and her feeling pleased at her success in luring him?”

“Lorelei. Of course.” Alasdair made the sound he’d successfully used in films to express extreme annoyance.

“Lorelei?” Roger asked.

“Yes,” Jonny said. “Richard said that Alexandra had a touch of Lorelei about her and because he’d been saying she would have liked to be in the movies, Moira connected it to something that Marilyn Monroe is making.”

“An adaptation of a stage show. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes .” Alasdair quite fancied seeing the film, given the quality of the two female leads. “The original hasn’t made it to the West End yet, alas, so it’s probably unlikely Richard would have been referring to it, unless he’s a screen buff.”

“Moira closed that part of the conversation down, perhaps not wanting to dwell on any resemblance Alexandra might have had to gorgeous actresses,” Toby said. “Since then, any thoughts about the Monday Evening trio have focussed on Moira and Jeff and poor old Richard’s been edged out.”

“It’s an interesting idea, but none of this is proof of her involvement, though,” Roger pointed out. “You’ll have to hope she’s had a crisis of conscience and tells all if you get to meet her.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to believe anything she says, frankly. In fact, I’m sceptical about anyone having told us the truth. Let’s find a cab.” Alasdair turned them in the direction of the tube station.

“What next, then, for the investigation?” Jonny asked as they walked.

“Report to Matthew with everything Vera and her mother told us. I’ll do that,” Toby offered, “given that Alasdair’s become a doubting Thomas. Then we hope Morgan’s arranged us an interview with Alexandra and that it’s as enlightening as the last few hours have been.”

“You two will want to follow up with Neil,” Alasdair suggested. “In fact, Toby should really hold fire on his report until we know whether Archer’s proved a damp squib.”

Roger nodded. “I’ll get onto it this evening.”

“Which just leaves playing cupid,” Toby said, “but that can wait until these cases are wrapped up. A nice reward for a job well done.”

“Playing cupid?” Alasdair’s eyebrow, which he’d kept relatively quiet, leaped into action. “Jeff and Moira?”

“With poor old Richard playing gooseberry?” Toby chuckled. “Yes, although I also had in mind Fred and Vera. I’d not insult any independent woman by saying that she needs a man in her life but everyone can do with a bit of romance and I think they’d make a lovely couple.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t like men that way,” Jonny said. “Look at us four. We shouldn’t assume.”

“I’ll be the soul of discretion,” Toby said. “Irrespective of any romance, I think we should suggest the mesdames Brook as companions for the premiere of The Heart That Wears the Crown . Although I’m not going to suggest that until Vera’s made all the statements Matthew might need from her.”

“You don’t want that lure being snapped up via perjury committed in the cause of furthering one’s fortunes?” Roger said. “Very sensible.”

Particularly so in this case, which had seen a mass of deceptions and downright lies. Almost as many as in a Landseer press release concerning Alasdair and Toby.

As they neared the station—happy to take the tube this time, should there be no cabs in the offing, and having agreed to travel in separate carriages—Toby said, “I’ve had an awful thought. It’s so awful, and so scantily grounded, that I’m not sure I should share it.”

“You can’t leave things like that. You’ve had your share of mysteries today.” Alasdair contemplated shaking the secret out of him, but that would be unseemly.

“As long you understand this has merely been prompted by Jonny’s thing about turning the evidence the other way up and your being a doubting Thomas.” Toby sniffed. “What if everything’s part of the same deception? Lloyd asks me along to his meeting because he knows that Moira and pals will want to ask me to look into Alexandra’s disappearance. Maybe he’s planted the idea in their heads. She’s in it, too, dropping hints all around about this and that before she makes herself scarce. Hints that people know we’ll follow up on, building up a bank of circumstantial evidence about Carstone’s death and a planned act of terror that we’re bound to pass on to the authorities, given our track record. Only this evidence has been planted, to make us—and police—look in the wrong direction.”

Alasdair opened his mouth to reassure him that couldn’t be so, but the words wouldn’t come. What if Toby was right and they’d been led by the nose?

“I refuse to believe that,” Jonny said. “It would mean Vera and her mother were in on it, too, and they’d have to be better actresses than even Fiona Marsden to bring that off. Faking those tears of gratitude for a start.”

“Unless they’d also been duped,” Toby pointed out. “Like Moira and Jeff and Richard will have been.”

“No, I can’t see that.” Roger said, with a note of authority. “I’m not saying these things don’t happen. The deceptions that went on during the war, their scale and complexity, would make your eyes roll out of anyone’s head. But one of the reasons these deceits worked was our enemies being persuaded to believe what they wanted to believe. Proper scrutiny wasn’t employed on their part, or not at a high enough level to make a difference. That’s not the case here.”

“Because we keep an open mind about what we hear and are willing to flip our theories on their heads?” Toby, who’d been sounding quite desperate, had a note of hopefulness returning to his voice.

“Not only that. It would be blinkered to say that Matthew and this Bruce chap and all their cronies can’t be taken in, but the more eyes the better and they’ll be used to sifting false alarms from real. If you need reassurance, mention your qualms to them and see if they’ve been getting a whiff of good red herring.”

“We will, Roger. Thanks for the encouragement.” Alasdair gave Toby his best smile, saved only for his light of love. “You might say that not everything can turn out to be as artificial as a Landseer set and surely if Lloyd and Chapman wanted to dupe us they’d have chosen something more believable than secret powers as part of the story?”

“Very true, oh great mind.” Toby grinned. “Apologies for the wobble, chaps.”

“No apology needed,” Roger said. “You can also remember that the more people you have involved in one of these deception schemes, the more likely it is that things leak out. I’m not going to discuss anything in detail here, but I’ve got a good example. If you’ve heard of the eighth crew member onboard for some of the Lancaster operations, you’ll know what I’m referring to. Several of those planes went down due to what’s termed ‘security failures’, which meant somebody—probably one of the other eighth men—snitched to the enemy about what was going on. Either because of pressure exerted by the enemy or going with where their loyalties ultimately lay.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Alasdair said, “so maybe we’ll have to arrange a full briefing on the subject at a more convenient occasion. I take the point, though. If the authorities put enough pressure on enough people, one of them might crack and reveal the plan, whatever it is.”

“Or you appeal to their decency.” Roger spread his hands. “Lloyd’s or Alexandra’s. Because Chapman, Archer and Salt are probably too far gone.”