Lucy found Ian alone in the office. He was keen to get her up to speed.

‘Murray and Natalie are with the pair we brought in. Found out Phoebe Hill wasn’t on the Emirates flight from Doha due in Saturday morning. She swapped shifts and was on a different flight that landed in London at two thirty on Friday afternoon.’

‘Wow! I’ve been wondering about her, especially since Henrik said the perpetrator could be a woman. What’s happening about her?’

‘Natalie said we’d talk to her after she’s finished with Finn and Hassan.’

‘I wouldn’t mind being part of that interview.’ Lucy flopped onto her seat. Tiredness and her sore ankle were taking their toll. She could do with a rest or a pick-me-up. ‘Don’t suppose you would be my lackey and fetch a coffee and chocolate bar. I twisted my ankle chasing after that little punk earlier and it could do with some time out.’

‘Lackey?’

‘It’s an old-fashioned word meaning servant.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘You obviously haven’t watched some of the period dramas I’ve been subjected to,’ she joked. ‘Essential Sunday night viewing for pregnant women, apparently.’ She caught the look that flickered across his features. ‘Oh shit, I forgot, you know all about that. You’ve got your own little bubba. How is she?’

‘Fine… growing… thanks. Any preference for chocolate?’ He stood up in an instant.

‘The largest you can find. Thanks, Ian.’ As she handed over some coins for the machine, she took in the strained smile. She’d obviously put her foot in it but she didn’t know how. ‘Make sure you get something for yourself.’

He beetled off. Lucy untied the lace on her boot and glanced at her ankle, which was ballooning in size. She needed to ice it and raise it. For now it was best to keep her boot done up tightly and carry on.

The internal phone rang. She hobbled across to it and lifted the receiver. It was the officer manning reception.

‘I’ve got a call from a woman who thinks her life is in danger. I can’t patch it through to anyone else. Can I put her on to you?’

‘Yes, sure, but we’re up to our eyeballs.’

‘I know but you could talk to her, she’s in a dreadful state.’

‘Okay. Put her through.’

It was only a few seconds before she heard a voice. ‘My name is Fabia Hamilton. I think someone’s going to try and kill me.’

‘Where are you, Fabia?’

‘I’m at my private clinic in Samford but I can’t stay here.’

Ian came in, put a coffee on Lucy’s desk and tossed over the chocolate bar, which she caught with her free hand. She mouthed her thanks.

‘Tell me more, Fabia. Why do you think somebody’s going to kill you?’

‘I’ve been treating a patient over the last few months with serious issues towards women. I realise I shouldn’t break patient confidentiality but I’m scared. I’m really scared. I think I’ve been treating a killer. I’m going to stay with a friend. I have to get away. Hang on. There’s somebody outside.’ Her voice had dropped to a whisper.

‘Don’t hang up. Tell us where you are.’

The line went dead.

‘Shit!’ She rang the front desk. ‘You got the number that rang in just now?’

‘It was a withheld number.’

‘Didn’t you ask her for it before you put her through to me?’

The young officer on the desk sounded flustered. ‘No, Sergeant, I didn’t, I was busy…’

‘Spare me the excuses. This woman could be in real danger and I don’t know how the fuck to reach her.’ She slammed down the receiver and moved back to her desk, typed the name Fabia Hamilton into the search engine and scrolled through the results. Fabia was a psychologist specialising in dreams and dreaming, who’d made several appearances on television and radio discussing dream analysis. She worked out of a clinic she owned in Samford in Hartford Street, a smart street of Victorian houses, now housing several medical and holistic practices.

‘When Natalie returns, tell her I’ve gone to Hartford Street to check on this woman who thinks she’s been treating a murderer.’ She shoved the paper with Fabia’s name written on it at Ian.

‘Is there a connection to our investigation?’

‘Don’t know but I’m concerned about her. She thought somebody was outside her house and dropped the call, and I haven’t heard from her since.’

‘You want backup?’

‘I’ll call in if I need any.’ Lucy was out of the door in a flash, tiredness now banished.

---

Murray shook his head as he spoke to Natalie outside the interview room. ‘Little shit’s clammed up on me.’

‘Damn, I thought we were getting somewhere with Hassan at least. We’ll leave them to cool their heels for a while. We can keep them here on grounds we fear they’ll abscond if we release them, and they’re assisting us with our enquiries. If they start bleating about being held, begin the questioning process again. Take Ian in with you. I’m going to talk to Phoebe Hill.’

She stepped out to her car, noting it was almost six. It was another long day in which they’d achieved very little. The case was proving to be a huge frustration.

---

Phoebe Hill, eyes red-rimmed, opened the door to Walnut Cottage. She clung to the oak door frame with both hands, displaying perfectly painted fingernails, before saying, ‘I’ve been expecting you. You’d better come in.’

Natalie found herself in the same room with the horse sculpture she’d been in four days earlier. She sat opposite Phoebe, who curled up into a large, round chair.

‘Are your parents in?’

‘They’ve gone to visit Grandma with Alfie. Jed’s left.’ She raised damp eyes. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell the truth.’

‘It would certainly have been more helpful if you had.’

‘I realise that but it was… complicated.’

‘Then enlighten me now.’

‘Charlotte messaged me. Told me she and Jed were having an affair; that sometimes when I was away, he’d spend time with her. Said he was going to visit her on Friday. I didn’t believe her at first so I asked Jed what his plans were for Friday and he told me had a radio interview in Stoke. There was something about his manner that made me suspect he was lying. I suggested he drop by my parents and wish them a happy anniversary while he was up here, but he couldn’t because he’d already made arrangements to meet some guy in the same industry as him for a couple of beers, and then was catching a late train home.

‘Jed’s not good at lying. He can’t make eye contact. I knew straight away he was making it up. He was going to meet Charlotte like she’d told me. I intended catching them at it. I asked my supervisor if I could swap flights so I could be with my parents at their big wedding anniversary celebrations, making out it was an important occasion with all the family attending. She was accommodating and found a colleague willing to swap with me at the last minute. I flew out on the Kuwait flight on Thursday and got back at two thirty p.m. on the Friday, although Jed believed I was going to Doha on Thursday and returning on the red-eye flight, due back into London early Saturday morning as usual. After we landed, I collected a hire car at the airport. My car is far too obvious. Charlotte and Jed would have recognised it in an instant if they’d seen it.

‘I arrived at Charlotte’s house just before five p.m., parked down the road and kept watch for any sign of Jed arriving after his interview, or of Charlotte going out to meet him. Charlotte was at home. I could see her through the windows. She was with Alfie. After an hour and a half, Adam came home, and sometime later they headed out to meet my parents. Jed had been telling me the truth after all. He’d gone from the interview to see a musician friend, not to meet up with Charlotte.’

‘What did you do after Charlotte and Adam left?’

‘I drove straight home. I stopped at a service station, had a coffee and sat there for ages. I got in some time after ten p.m. I expected Jed to return soon after I did and I was prepared to tell him I’d done a last-minute swap, but he didn’t show up until the following morning. He came in just before I got the call about Charlotte. He told me he’d crashed at his musician friend’s place. Now I know the truth. He and I had a heart-to-heart after he went to the station with you. Seems I was right to be suspicious. He had intended seeing her. And Alfie! He’s Jed’s son. The bitch. She ruined everything yet again.’ Hot tears welled in her eyes.

Natalie understood Phoebe’s anger. Her own sister had been equally cruel.

‘How could she do that? How could she deliberately chase after him, have his baby and not tell him until now? How could she wait until now, when we’re engaged, before blowing the lid on it all and ruining our relationship? I thought she was heartless, but I’d no idea she was prepared to go to such lengths to destroy other people’s happiness, to wreck my happiness.’

‘I’m truly sorry these circumstances have come to light; however, I still have to corroborate your alibi. You see, you have a strong motive for wishing your sister dead.’

‘I knew nothing about Alfie until Jed told me today.’

‘Nevertheless, we must eliminate you as a suspect. Do you have the paperwork for the hire car, or anything to support what you’ve told me?’

‘I paid for my coffee and sandwich with my credit card. I didn’t have any cash on me. There’ll be a time on the transaction slip, won’t there? And there’ll be CCTV or surveillance camera of some description at the service station too.’ Her words tumbled more quickly. ‘I don’t have the hire car details here, but I have a loyalty card with them and a phone number. If you ring the company, they ought to be able to confirm everything.’

She fumbled in a large Chanel handbag, drew out a purse and handed Natalie a receipt and a plastic loyalty card.

Natalie examined both. ‘These should help us establish your exact whereabouts when your sister was murdered.’

‘I wouldn’t have killed her, even if she and Jed had been having a full-blown affair or if I’d found out the truth about Alfie. I hated her but she was still my sister and part of me loved her. I couldn’t have put my parents through all of this living hell.’

Her eyes were trained on a large photograph of two girls, arms around each other, laughing for the camera. ‘I don’t understand why she was so vindictive. She took everything that was mine away from me, even Jed.’ The tears were back.

Natalie stood. ‘I’m not in the habit of doling out advice, but it is my experience that if you want something badly enough, you go after it. She hasn’t taken Jed. If you still want him, you can change that.’

As she left the house, she thought about Phoebe’s words – that she’d hated her sister but loved her at the same time. Natalie felt the same way about her own sister, Frances. Was it also how the killer felt? Did he love and hate somebody close to him, the same way Phoebe and Natalie did?