Disordered Minds

She nodded. 'Most of your information comes from newspaper coverage. Is that the only research you did?'

He saw a criticism immediately. 'It's a common enough resource tool, Miss Gardener ... but, no, I also had some correspondence with Adam Fanshaw, who in turn put me in touch with Stamp's solicitor. They're both retired now, but they were able to fill in some of the gaps, particularly about Grace's history. The solicitor sent me a copy of a letter that was quoted at the trial, but it contained some rather more interesting information that I referred to in my book. I also consulted a psychological profiler.'

She toyed with the edge of her plate. 'Do you ever consider the advantages your dark skin gives you?' she asked abruptly.

He frowned. 'I'm sorry?'

'Most decent people would hate to be thought of as racist. Surely that works in your favor some of the time?'

It was another tangent, but he didn't understand where it was leading. 'I don't follow.'

She held his gaze for a moment. 'Presumably most educated whites, meeting you for the first time, make a point of expressing interest in what you say ... even if it bores them. Isn't that an advantage of being dark-skinned? They wouldn't show the same courtesy to an overweight, middle-aged white woman.' She smiled slightly. 'But then being fat is a lifestyle choice-and being colored isn't.'

'I wouldn't know, Miss Gardener. You're the first person who's accused me of being boring. I don't see how it relates to Howard.'

'I was wondering how far he contributed to his own bullying,' she mused. 'How far does anyone contribute to their own bullying?'

'They don't. Howard became a target because of his harelip. He couldn't help it, anymore than blacks and Asians can help having dark skin. Bullying's a form of terror-and terrorists always choose the easiest targets.'

She reverted to the subject of research. 'Were documents your only tool? Did you never think of coming down to Bournemouth to find people who knew Howard?'

It was another criticism. 'Not until today, no. But neither did I go to Rochdale to research the Kiszko case, nor Bakewell to research the Downing case.'

'Didn't you think it was important?'

'My expertise lies in examining and analyzing available records, not in hammering on doors looking for long-lost witnesses. The Stamp case was one chapter in a long book that took over a year to write. I felt there was enough documentary evidence to posit the possibility of a mistrial, and you clearly agreed, otherwise you wouldn't have written to me. The idea now is to take the case further.'

'I'm not trying to offend you,' she said. 'I'm just interested in how an academic approaches a subject like this. I'd love to have gone to an established university myself, but it wasn't easy for a postman's daughter at the tail end of the sixties.'

Oh, please! Did she think it was any easier for a half-breed from a sink estate to win a place at Oxford at the tail end of the eighties? 'It's precisely because I thought it was important to find people who knew Howard that I included a contact address in the book,' he said patiently. 'It's also why I'm here today-' he took out another cigarette-'although I don't seem to be making much progress.'

'Only because you think your agenda's more important than mine.'

He flicked his lighter to the tip. 'What makes you say that?'

'Body language.'

'For Christ's sake, stop being so bloody stuffy. You look as if someone's rammed a. broomstick up your backside.'

He forced a smile to his face. 'Do you mind if I take off my jacket?'

She noticed he was sweating. 'Be my guest.' She watched him stand up and meticulously empty his pockets before carefully draping the fine wool over the back of the chair. He tucked his wallet, passport and a couple of pens into his briefcase, then unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and folded them back. It was an interesting routine, she thought-very Pavlovian. 'The reason I'm asking these questions,' she went on as he took his seat at the table again, 'is because, unlike you, I have done the legwork ... on and off since I first heard Howard's story.' She took a folder from the carrier bag she'd brought with her. 'These are my notes.'

The file was a good two inches thick. 'May I see them?'

'Not yet,' she said with surprising firmness. 'First I'd like you to tell me what you plan to do with them.'

'Assuming they add to the knowledge I already have-and with your permission of course-I'll include them in a new book.'

'About what? Howard ... or the iniquities of the judicial system?'

'Both, but Howard principally.'

'May I ask why?'

Jonathan saw no reason not to be honest. 'My agent's impressed by the number of letters I've received-not all of them sympathetic-but there does seem to be considerable interest in Howard.'

'And your agent thinks the book will sell?'

He nodded.

'That's good.' She propped her chin in her hands. 'Now let me tell you why I'm interested in the case. As I said in my first letter, my introduction to it was through one of my neighbors who knew Grace by sight. They had a nodding acquaintance, but they weren't friends and they didn't socialize. Whenever my neighbor talked about the murder she always concentrated on the horror of it and the impact it had on the street. She said it was months before she dared go out and years before she opened her door without worrying about being murdered ... in other words, long after Howard was convicted.' She fell into a brief silence while she marshaled her thoughts.