Disordered Minds

'Abuse,' said Sasha.

'We'll come to that in a minute. I'm after anything that's supported by an independent witness.'

'The fight between the girls,' said George, 'presumably also the fight between Robert Burton and David Trevelyan ... and Robert Burton's remark about Cill deserving what she got. The fact that Cill didn't disappear until after her father left for work.' She gestured toward Sasha. 'The Trevelyans' known commitment to trying to trace their daughter. The Burtons' willingness to let theirs go. Louise's troubled history-marriage to one of the rapists ... remarriage to a man of the same type-'

'Do we know that for a fact?' Jonathan broke in.

'She had a black eye when William saw her,' said Sasha.

'We don't know it was given to her by her husband-' he tapped Andrew's bullet points-'and it may not have been real, anyway. She turned up with fake bruises when she went to see our agent.'

'What do you know about her husband?' Sasha asked. 'William tells me his name's Nicholas Fletcher and he's a bookie, but he hasn't been able to find out anything else.'

George shrugged. 'We haven't done much better. He had a fight with Roy Trent over Priscilla on one occasion-' she pulled a wry face-'assuming you believe my not very reliable source at the Crown and Feathers who got the information secondhand off a customer. The barmaid,' she explained. 'She told me the other day after Jonathan and I had a set-to with him.'

Sasha looked interested. 'Did Mr. Trent report it? I might be able to find out Fletcher's details if he did.'

'I shouldn't think so. He gives the police a fairly wide berth.'

'When was this?'

'Two years ago. It was before Tracey started working there, which is why it's hearsay.'

Sasha consulted her own notes. 'Didn't you say Priscilla was at the pub in February when she stole Dr. Hughes's wallet?' George nodded.

'Does her husband know she's still seeing him?'

'No idea ... and it may not be relevant, anyway, if she's still working as a prostitute and her husband's her pimp.' Her mouth turned down disapprovingly. 'It's all very murky, whichever way you look at it. My father would be spinning in his grave if he knew the antics people get up to these days. What's wrong with being loyal to one partner? It always used to work.'

Sasha caught Jonathan's gaze and a flicker of amusement shivered between them.

George pretended not to notice. 'If she isn't in her house now, then she may well be at the Crown and Feathers. She's like a bee to a honeypot where Roy's concerned. I never noticed her car before, but now, almost every time I pass the pub, it's there in the road. You'd think she'd be worried about Nicholas seeing it. I mean, if I've noticed it, why hasn't he?'

'What sort of car is it?'

'Black BMW,' said Jonathan. 'We can even give you the registration number.'

Sasha eyed him thoughtfully. 'What about Nicholas? What does he drive?'

'Pass.'

'Then perhaps the BMWs his. It's worth a try.' She took out her mobile telephone. 'There were no cars at the house when I was there,' she explained, 'but I'm sure there was someone in the house.' She punched in a number. 'Can you write out the registration?' she asked Jonathan. 'This is a check I can run quite quickly through the office.'

Louise slid through the kitchen doorway and watched Roy peeling potatoes. He was working at a chopping board near the monitor, and he had his back to her. It was funny how he reminded her of her father. They had similar builds and similar ways of speaking, but she didn't think either of those triggered memories of Robert. It had more to do with the fact that Roy was always preparing meals. 'I don't know why you bother,' she said into the silence. 'Who's going to eat them?'

He'd known she was there. Just like her father, he always heard her come in. 'Private room's booked out till midnight,' he told her. 'Card game.' He wiped his hands on a towel and turned round. 'What's up?'

She walked round the table to give him Sasha Spencer's card. 'That bitch George must have told them. What should I do?'

Roy squinted at the writing on the back. 'How did you get it?'

'It was posted through the letter box.'

'Did you tell Nick?'

'Don't be an idiot!'

Roy jerked his head toward the monitor. 'I've been watching him. He was waiting by the letter box when this Spencer woman poked it through.' He tucked the card back into her pocket. 'You'd better start working out how to tell him who Louise Burton is. He'll probably kill you for it ... but I'm past caring.'

She raised her mouth to his and teased him with her tongue. 'Nick I can handle. What do I do about Sasha Spencer?'

He stared into her eyes before pulling her into a rough embrace. 'What you always do,' he said with a grim smile. 'Tell her it was someone else. Cill'll not stay buried this time. There's too many people asking questions.'

George went inside to make a pot of tea, Jonathan suggested moving the table to a spot further down the garden where a neighbor's tree offered some shade. Sasha accepted gratefully. He tucked her chair well under the tree, then retrieved the other two, placing his in the sunshine, at an angle to the table, and stretching his long legs in front of him. 'Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?'

'Strange things genes,' said Jonathan nonchalantly. 'My father was a Jamaican road sweeper and my mother was a Chinese maid.'