“Won’t the boys complain?” Duff asked. “They can tell the police when they get ashore.”
“I’ve considered that,” Watters said. “How many police constables listen to urchins? Damned few, if any. And how many young lads would go higher than the beat constable, to a solicitor, say? They would not know how to and wouldn’t get close anyway.” He saw his detectives absorb his words. “Besides that, once the lads are at sea, they might not be ashore for months or even years. Skeffling has a fleet of trawlers, so he could pass the apprentices from boat to boat.”
“They could drown out there,” Duff said.
“Many do.”
“We searched his house and the grounds,” Duff reminded. “And we found nothing.”
“We’re missing something,” Watters said. “Scuddamore. Are you making any progress out there?”
Scuddamore
