At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. She grew perhaps a shade paler, and she glanced out into the street, where her four-wheeler cab, laden with luggage, was still waiting. The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her! The pearl without price—his and not his! He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down the veranda steps. She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade.
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