Watters thought of John Wallace for a moment, then nodded to the booking-in-book. “Can I see your guests?”
Watters scanned the list of prisoners and picked out those who were held for running a shebeen. “I’ll have a word with these,” he said.
Mrs Spalding was sitting on her bed when Watters entered her cell. She looked up with her face streaked with tears and her clothes dishevelled.
“Good morning, Mrs Spalding,” Watters said cheerfully. “I hope you slept well.”
A night in the cells had robbed Mrs Spalding of all the fire of their previous encounter. She muttered something under her breath.
Watters opened the door wider. “If you’d like to come with me, Mrs Spalding, I will take you to the interview room. I have some questions for you before I formally charge you.”
“Are you going to r
