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pushed through the door into his office, threw off his coat and fell heavily into his chair. “What have you got?”
    “Joan Harris. A Miss Edgar who works for the American Ambassador reported her missing yesterday. Apparently she hadn’t turned up at work for over a week. Miss Edgar, who is her boss, thought it was odd as she was a very reliable girl. Said she didn’t report it straight away as she assumed there must be some good explanation.”
    “That’s strange. If she was so reliable, I’d have thought it would be a matter of immediate concern that she hadn’t turned up. How do we know she’s our girl?” Merlin picked irritably at a loose thread on his jacket.
    “Just to finish the story, sir – apparently the girl lived on her own in lodgings in Hammersmith. Her family live in Gloucestershire and Miss Edgar thought there might have been some problem at home which required her to go back there at short notice. Something like one of her brothers being called up and her wanting to see him off, or such like. In any event, apparently one of her brothers turned up at the Ambassador’s home the day before yesterday looking for her. He told Miss Edgar that Miss Harris hadn’t been home to Gloucestershire since October. They hadn’t even seen her at Christmas as they had expected. In the light of that, Miss Edgar sent one of the embassy chauffeurs around with the brother to the girl’s lodgings. Her landlady said she hadn’t seen her for over a week and complained of being owed rent. Not a sympathetic sort, I understand.”
    Having resolved the problem with his jacket, Merlin turned his attention to the tie which he had knotted too tightly. “So we know this girl is missing but how do we know that she’s the Barnes girl?”
    “Well, the description from her brother generally fits. She was missing from almost exactly the same time as our girl was killed. She’s not one of these evacuees about whom no one has a clear picture. She was a good worker with a good job and no apparent reason to go missing.”
    Merlin gave a small sigh of relief as he finally managed to loosen his neckwear. “She might have had a boyfriend to be with and that’s why she didn’t go home for Christmas and now she’s decided to run off with him. Still, it’s worth checking out. Let’s see if the brother can identify her. I suppose the body’s still in the Central Morgue?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Where’s the brother now?”
    “One of the staff has taken him for a drink near the Ambassador’s house in Kensington – to calm his nerves.”
    Merlin ran his hand through his hair.
    “Better tell them we’re on our way.”
    Driving past Horse Guards Parade and into Trafalgar Square, they passed a team of police and firemen making further adjustments to the sandbagging. At the top of his column, a saviour from a previous time of danger stared out into the distance, scanning for any sign of invading Nazis.
    We could do with Nelson now, thought Merlin, and better throw in Marlborough, Henry V and Richard The Lionheart for good measure. He sighed. Well, we haven’t got them but let’s hope to God that the current batch of military leaders turn out better than the duffers of the last war. If we have the equivalent of Haig and Co again we won’t stand a chance. Of course, no one had really tested the German army yet – they’d had a very easy time of it, although the Poles had done their best with their brave but doomed cavalry brigades. Perhaps the Boche wouldn’t turn out to be as good as they were cracked up to be. One could only hope.
    As for the politicians, he couldn’t see Chamberlain being the man to inspire the nation. Who could? Halifax? He had been a prominent appeaser. Attlee? Too dull. Many people felt Churchill could be the man but his whole career so far had been one of bombast and unreliability. Merlin personally had a lot of time for Winston, who had been right all along about Hitler, as he had kept on reminding