'Fran?' He looked away again and passed a hand through his hair. 'She isn't in the circle.'
'I know, but she's in my circle.'
He frowned as her meaning got home to him. 'You don't have to worry about Fran. She's incorruptible. Please leave her alone.'
'She has as much reason as you to have been angry with Blacker.'
'She didn't know him at all.'
Not knowing him could have made killing him easier, but Hen chose not to point this out. 'You don't mind me saying, I hope: there's quite an age gap between you.'
'So?'
'I wondered how it came about.'
'I was unhappily married for years. We separated and things went from bad to worse. That business with my neighbour, and the spell inside. The divorce was. . horrible. When I met Fran her gentle personality, her honesty, was like a revelation. She understood what I'd been through. She helped me put my life together again.'
'We know about Fran's first marriage, Mr McDade.'
'Oh God, spare us that! She made a mistake and got hitched to a criminal when she was just eighteen. He was put away with the rest of the gang almost forty years ago. You've got nothing on Fran.'
'True,' Hen said. 'Nothing at all.'
'She could have said I was at home on the evening of the fire, but she didn't. You get the truth from her. If she'd gone out that night and started the fire herself she'd tell you. You wouldn't even have to ask. She'd be round at the police station and telling you all about it the same night.'
'Remarkable,' Hen said. 'I wish there were more like her.'
'She's unique.'
She dropped the butt of her cigar and flattened it with her shoe. 'Better get back to your hosing.'
His face creased in disappointment. 'Aren't you going to let me go?'
'Not so simple,' Hen said. 'There are formalities. You were sent here by a magistrate. I'll have to explain what the hell the police were up to, and I'm not sure I know. I only started in the job this morning.'
15
I never came across a situation so dismal that a policeman couldn't make it worse.
Pressganged into being spokesman for the circle, Bob had no chance to prepare. He spent the rest of that day and next morning fielding questions from national and local papers, as well as radio and TV people. It was jaw-dropping what some of these journos asked. Did Miss Snow have children? Affairs with clients? Was she gay?
Miss Snow?
The hardest part was giving the impression that he knew all about the poor woman. By the third or fourth interview he'd worked up a routine that seemed to satisfy them. Yes, she was a quiet, conscientious lady who doubled up as secretary and treasurer of the circle, and would be hugely missed. She was a chartered accountant. Even after retirement she'd continued to audit the books of several Chichester businesses. She was very committed to helping the women's refuge, serving in the charity shop and helping out at the house the refuge used. Any spare time was devoted to the book she was writing about famous Snows.
He didn't mention that call inviting her to the boat house. Up to now the press hadn't fully grasped the link between all three fires, and he was damned if he wanted to be put through the grinder about his own adventure.
Just when he was thinking of taking no more calls, Thomasine phoned.
'You're a star,' she said. 'No one else could have done it. I heard you on the car radio when I was driving out to Zach's. Writers' circle ten, nosy interviewer nil.'
'More like one all and playing extra time,' he said. 'What's the dope on Zach?'
'He was uncomfortable about leaving the meeting halfway through. I've got my suspicions. Anton was probably right. Those two are up to something.'
'Zach and Naomi? It's an odd pairing.'
'I know, but if she wants to use Zach, he's putty in her hands. She terrifies most men. Terrifies me sometimes.'
'Use him for what?'
'What Anton was on about. Recycling all this drama as the raw material for storylines.'
'I didn't think Naomi wrote stories. She does facts, doesn't she, the truth about witchcraft and such?'
'Yes, but Zach is the storyteller. He can wrap anything up in words and make it sound exciting.'
'Do you think so? When he read out bits of his novel I was turned right off.'
'He's the best we've got.'
'Do Zach and Naomi know anything we don't?'
'I get the feeling they do. There's something going on, Bob.'
'So what next? Do we tackle Naomi?'
'She's next, yes.'
He gave an insincere sigh. 'What a pity I'm so busy with all these press interviews.'
DI Cherry was a foot taller than Hen and showing resentment that she'd taken over this investigation, but in her philosophy the bigger they came, the easier they were to shoot down. 'What do you mean, "it's missing", Johnny? It was on the video.'
He shrugged. 'I checked all the evidence bags, and it isn't among them.'
'Was it ever?'
'Pardon?'
'Was the picture of Blacker and the other man ever removed from the bedroom and bagged up?'
Now he looked over her head, as if the strip lighting had a fascination for him. 'I thought it was. Can't be a hundred per cent certain.'
'Didn't it interest you as the senior investigator?'
'I was focusing on the seat of the fire downstairs.'
'The front door?'
'Yes.'
'And when you finished focusing downstairs did you look in the bedroom?'
'Sure, and we collected a lot of stuff, like his sleeping tablets and the clothes he'd been wearing.'
'They were hanging over the chair?'
'Right. You can see them on the video. It was taken before we disturbed anything. You can see the clothes if you want. His wallet. His credit cards.'
'Are we on the same wavelength, Johnny? Just now, all I want to see is that photo.'
'I get you. I'm not being stroppy. I was at my desk at eight this morning.'
Hen had shown up closer to nine thirty. 'Early riser?'
'No. I need the alarm to wake me at six thirty. I fit in my swim before I get here. I've always believed in leading by example.'
She ignored the taunt. 'Is it possible it's still hanging on the wall in what's left of the cottage?'
'I suppose it could be.'
'Then I suggest you retrieve it pretty fast and bring it here.' After he'd gone she turned to Stella. 'What a bullshitter. I asked him earlier if we had it and he told me we did.'
'In fairness, guv, he wasn't quite so categorical as that. You asked him if it was bagged up and he said it must have been.'
'Shifting the blame. He'll come down like a ton of bricks on some hapless scene-of-crime officer. Leading by example. So far, I'm not impressed with our Mr Cherry.' She called across the incident room, over the heads of the civilian staff entering data into computers, 'DC Humphreys.'
A startled face surfaced. 'Ma'am?'
'"Guv" will do, thank you. How many of the writers' circle have you contacted about the meeting?'
'All but three. . guv.'
'And who are they — the ones you haven't reached?'
'Zach Beale. He hasn't turned up at work yet. And Naomi and Basil Green. I left a message on their answerphone.'
'Everyone else is signed up?'
"Yes, guv.'
'Chase up the Greens, then. And Zach.'
Another officer called. 'For you, guv.' He held up a phone. 'Forensics.'
Hen put it to her ear. 'You've got results for me?'
'Is this DCI Mallin?'
'It is.'
'Pauline Cooper, forensic odontologist, concerning the remains found in the fire in number seven, Tower Street.'