began to stir restlessly. The ashtray was already full of stubs, and the air was pungent with stale smoke that mingled with an expensive scent.

‘I hope I’m not shocking you,’ said Charlotte. ‘I know some of you people can be very puritanical. But Graham and I have always had that sort of marriage. It is rather an accepted thing among our circle of friends.’

‘You mentioned other lovers, Mrs Vernon. I need to ask you for some names.’

‘Really? How many years would you like me to go back?’

‘Just the last few months, shall we say?’

‘Are our police looking at jealousy as a motive then? How original.’

O

‘Names?’

‘All right. There have been one or two of my husband’s business colleagues. Just the odd occasion, you know. Nothing heavy.’

She gave Fry three names, only one of which meant anything.

‘Andrew Milner?’

‘He works for Graham.’

‘I know who he is.’

Fry stared at the woman, wondering if she was really the distraught mother who had appeared in previous reports. Perhaps she was on some drug that the doctor had given her. But she

269

cmild think of nothing that would completely change a woman’s

personality to this. Charlotte studied her expression and laughed

her cold laugh again.

‘Oh yes, I’m not too fussy when I’m in the mood.’

‘And have you been in the mood much since Laura was killed?

Does the thought of your daughter being attacked and murdered

make you feel randy?’

Charlotte’s iace seemed to blur and quiver, and her eves

swelled alarmingly. Her limbs trembled and her shoulders

o J

slumped into an unnatural position. It was as if the woman had disintegrated suddenly into a broken doll.

‘I go to that place every night, you know,’ she said.

‘What place?’ asked Fry, startled at the unexpected change.

‘I go at night, when no one’s around. Graham hates it. I take flowers for her.’

‘You go where?’

O

‘That place down there. The place where Laura died.’ She looked up pleadingly. ‘I take her roses and carnations from the garden. Are they the right things to take?’

Back at E Division, Ben Cooper made his way wearily up to the incident room, where just two computer operators were at their terminals and the office manager, DI Baxter, was stacking away some files. Cooper checked through the action sheets, but could find nothing allocated to him.

o

‘I’m back on duty now, sir.’

‘Nothing for you, Cooper,’ said Baxter. ‘Some of the teams are being reallocated. Your DI wants you back in the CID room. You’ve to report to DS Rennie.’

‘Oh, shit.’

‘Sorry, son.’

Baxter seemed about to reprimand Cooper for his outburst, conscious of the computer operator’s eyes on him. But he looked at Cooper’s face and changed his mind, not being one to kick a man when he was obviously down.

‘Mr Tailby thinks forensics —’

‘Yeah, I know. Thanks.’

Cooper stamped back downstairs. A DC was on the phone in

270

the CID room and Rennie was holding a report in the air, staring at it with an expression of admiration. He noticed Cooper come in and waved a hand casually.

‘Ben. Welcome back to the real world.’

Cooper kicked the chair away from his desk and thumped the pile of paper that had been sitting there since Monday.

‘What’s all this stuff?’

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