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Curiosity got the better of me. I knocked on the parlour doors and swept them open. ‘Good morning, Miss De—’

My throat turned to stone. I recognized Miss Decima’s visitor; I would recognize her anywhere. She might have been wearing a disguise, but that didn’t matter. She could change her hair or her clothes all she wanted, but I would never forget her face, no matter how hard I tried.

It was Temperance. The maid who’d murdered Miss Decima’s nephew; the one who’d tried to kill me, twice. She’d dressed as a charwoman to trick Miss Decima into letting her in and finally come back to finish the job, once and for all.

‘Get back, Miss Decima!’ I cried.

I ran for the fireplace, briefly got my legs tangled in a nest of tables, then righted myself to level a poker at Temperance. She was sitting on the chair beside Miss Decima, blinking at me. So much for a dry shirt; I’d soaked this one through already.

‘Stephen,’ said Miss Decima wearily, ‘put down the poker and stop being a twat.’

I pointed. ‘It’s Temperance!’

‘I am aware of that. Now stop interrupting us, please, and fetch me an egg.’ She turned to Temperance. ‘You don’t want an egg, do you?’

Temperance shook her head. It was only then that I saw that she was holding a cup of tea. You could have pushed me over with a finger. She hadn’t broken in: she was a guest. I stood dumbstruck while Miss Decima carried on the conversation with the woman who’d tried to shoot her with a crossbow barely a year before.

‘Well! We might as well get to the point, my dear. You excelled yourself with gathering information on the murder weapon. Now I would like you to do the same for the police file on Sir William Crace.’

‘How soon do you need it?’ asked Temperance.

‘As fast as you can,’ Miss Decima sighed. ‘I’ve only got three days left to save the female suffrage movement.’

The penny finally dropped. So did my lower jaw. Temperance was Miss Decima’s secret source – the one who had been working for her for months. She’d have been here, inside this apartment, while I was traipsing all the way to Hammersmith for winkles.

Temperance stood up, gathered her shawls and turned towards me. Her face was set in the exact same expression as when I’d last seen her, a year ago, before she fled into the night. I’d found it impossible to read that face then; I still couldn’t read it even now. Her eyes were as cold as glass. But there was something in them, even so – a vein of colour in a marble.

‘Stephen,’ she said.

She left, locking the door behind her. She had her own key, then. I stayed standing there, barely able to believe what had just happened. Miss Decima gathered up her papers, humming cheerfully, before turning around and frowning.

‘Shouldn’t you be making breakfast?’ she asked.

‘You hired her?’ I choked.

She groaned. ‘Stephen –’

I wasn’t stopping now. ‘She tried to kill you, Miss Decima! And me! Twice! She’s a murderer!’

‘Entirely accurate, Stephen,’ she snapped. ‘She also happens to be the best employee I have. She’s ruthlessly efficient, fiendishly manipulative and – as you may no doubt remember – a fabulous impersonator of voices. More importantly, thanks to her wretched childhood and shady past, she knows every nook and cranny of London’s seedy underbelly. As such, she serves as my much-needed connection to the criminal underworld. One should always keep a close eye on one’s enemies, remember?’

I pinched my nose. Sometimes talking to Miss Decima felt like the headache you get from eating an ice cream. ‘You’ve lost your mind.’

‘Better lost than squandered.’ She raised the newspaper that Temperance had evidently brought in with her. ‘We need her skills now more than ever, Stephen. Behold! WSPU meetings shut down by police, nationwide! Which means the Ivys can no longer use them to uncover information on the missing suffragettes, so I have had to recall them all, having spent a fucking fortune on their outfits. No matter! We shall soon have Theodora Gussett’s home address from Mrs Pankhurst, and can continue our investigation while Temperance fetches that police file. Now, where’s my egg?’

I’d had enough. I put down the poker, crossed my arms, took a moment to quickly fix the nest of tables so that they were all lined up neatly again, then recrossed my arms. ‘Miss Decima, I will not let you do this. She killed your own nephew.’

Miss Decima folded her hands in her lap. ‘Indeed she did, Stephen. However, may I remind you that she is the only surviving member of the Stockingham family line besides myself? Isabella’s illegitimate granddaughter, no less. I have a responsibility for her care and welfare. Between employing her or sending her to the gallows, you will forgive me if I elect to choose the former.’

She had me there. I scuffed my feet, reluctant to ask the question because I had a feeling I knew the answer already. ‘Were you ever going to tell me?’

‘Of course!’ she said briskly. ‘If and when it became necessary, which is now. Believe me, you will soon be very glad that Temperance works for this agency.’

I had a few words to say about that, but I never got the chance to say them because at that moment the front doorbell rang. I threw it open – there was the delivery boy again, picking his teeth and holding up a letter with a cigarette burn on it.

‘Your porter ain’t there again,’ he explained. ‘If I were you, I’d have a word. Anyone could come in and –’

I snatched the envelope, slammed the door in his face and carried the letter through to Miss Decima. She sat up in her bath chair and grabbed it straight out of my hands.