Merlin picked up the nearest file. When the war had started, almost a year before, Frank Merlin had been in charge of the Yard’s Violent Crimes Unit. As the year passed and the ranks of the Yard had been depleted by officers joining the forces, being seconded to Special Branch or other specialist government units, or otherwise being siphoned off from domestic crime duties to assist in the war effort, Merlin’s responsibilities had become more diversified. Effectively his “Violent Crime” Unit had become an “Any Serious Crime” Unit. The file he’d picked up concerned a non-violent crime. It was immaculately neat and Merlin knew without looking at the name on top of the front cover that it was the work of Inspector Peter Johnson. For several weeks, Johnson had been investigating a racket that was becoming increasingly common in wartime Britain. A deluge of forged ration books and identity cards was flooding through London and Merlin had given Johnson the task of stemming the flow. Johnson had succeeded in identifying several different gangs and had made a number of arrests. Merlin had in his hands the latest report on his investigation, in which Johnson reported that although there was still a good deal of false documentation circulating, the flood of new documentation had been reduced to a trickle by the arrests, for the present at least. There were still forgers out there, but Johnson felt he’d got most of the big players. Merlin was pleased. He’d had the Assistant Commissioner on his back about this for quite a while. He made a note in pencil on the file for it to be forwarded straightaway to the A.C.
The next file concerned the spate of violent robberies in Paddington. His eyes were beginning to strain at the small print and he opened one of the drawers in his desk. Sonia had noticed him reading a newspaper the other day with the print only a few inches away from his eyes. He had not wanted to admit to any failing, but Sonia had been insistent and he’d slipped away one lunch hour the previous week to visit an optician. A mild case of presbyopia had been diagnosed and he had walked away with a pair of not particularly attractive, heavy-rimmed spectacles. Merlin did not think himself a vain man and was surprised to find that he was damned if he was going to reveal the existence of these reading glasses to his colleagues. He kept his eye on the door as he furtively withdrew the glasses from the desk and put them on. It was a lot better, he admitted to himself, as the letters immediately loomed larger on the page. His brow furrowed as he concentrated and began to read.
*
The heavily powdered jowls of Sonia Sieczko’s customer quivered as she shook her head. “No, no, my dear. That’s simply not my colour. I told you that earlier when you brought out one of the other dresses. I’m looking for a pale lavender. That’s really a purple. That’s not what I want. What else is there?”
Sonia picked up the dress and struggled hard to hide her irritation as she walked away to put the dress on the large pile of other dresses that had proved unsatisfactory to Lady Theobald. Her ladyship had arrived at Sonia’s station about three quarters of an hour ago and had looked Sonia up and down carefully before introducing herself.
“I am Lady Theobald. Whatever has happened to the other girl who used to be here, what’s her name, Miss Lewis? Where is she?”
Lady Theobald was a plump lady of advancing years. On her head she wore a vast feathery confection of a hat, which loomed threateningly over Sonia, who smiled nervously. She hadn’t met a “Lady” before and wasn’t quite sure how to address her.
“Well, come on, girl, speak up.”
“Miss Lewis has got married, er, madam, and has left Swan and Edgar. I am the new girl at this station. My name is Sieczko, Miss Sieczko.”
“Miss Seek-what? Foreigner, are you? Thought you had a funny accent. Well, what’s your Christian name? Perhaps I’ll be able to pronounce that.” Lady Theobald glowered at Sonia as if she had committed a doubly unpardonable offence by first replacing Miss Lewis and then by being a foreigner.
“Sonia, madam.”
“Well, Sonia. Your superiors will no doubt tell you that I am a long-standing and much cherished customer of this establishment, so look smart as I have an important luncheon in an hour’s time and I don’t want to dilly-dally.”
Sonia moved to another rack of dresses and rummaged through them. Her first day in the ladies’ clothing department was not going very well. She had been notified a week before of her promotion from the ladies’ accessories department and had been given some pointers on her new job by Miss Lewis before she had left on Friday. Miss Lewis had warned her that she would have to handle a few awkward old battleaxes from time to time, but Sonia felt it was particularly bad luck to have one on her very first morning. She rummaged along the rack some more and found yet another dress that she thought might be the right colour. She lifted it out and confirmed that it was the right size. With a sinking heart, she returned to Lady Theobald.