Alexandra shrugged. “There seemed to be no future in it. He always made it clear that he would never leave his wife, that his domestic life was one he was not unhappy with. Well, I guess I felt that I wanted more from a long-term relationship than dinners in obscure restaurants and illicit meetings when he could fit them in. I loved him, no getting away from that, but I found I needed more from life. And just when I was at that low ebb, I fell in with someone I knew years ago, someone very different from Rupert, and I realised that with him I could have a relationship that held out a bit more hope for permanence.”

“And you told Rupert it was all over?”

Alexandra smiled wryly. “It’s easy to see you didn’t know Rupert. He had a phenomenal temper. When he raged, he did it in style. No, I didn’t tell him it was all over. What I did say was that I was going to have to start thinking about my long-term future. That one of these days I was going to want children, a full-time husband and father for them, and since Rupert wasn’t able to fit the bill, we’d better face the fact that sooner or later I was going to need more.”

“And what was his reaction to that?” Lindsay asked gently.

“He seemed really devastated. I was taken aback. I hadn’t realised how deep I went with him. He asked me-he didn’t beg or plead, he’d never forget himself that much-he asked me to reconsider my options. He said that recently everything he had put his trust in seemed to have failed him, and he didn’t want that to happen to us. He said he wanted time to reconsider his future in the light of what I’d said. That was on Saturday. Time’s the one thing he never expected not to have. You know how I found out he was dead? I read it in the papers. I’d been sitting watching television while he was being murdered.” Her voice cracked, and she turned away from them.

Lindsay found it easy to summon up the set of emotions she’d feel if she read of Cordelia’s death in her morning paper. She swallowed, then said, “I’m sorry to go on pushing you. But I need to know some more. Do you know what he meant when he said everything he’d trusted had failed him? What was he referring to?”

Alexandra blew her nose and wiped her eyes before she turned back towards them. “He said Simon had let him down. That he wasn’t the son he wanted. He sounded very bitter, but wouldn’t say what had provoked it. He seldom discussed family matters with me, though he did say a couple of weeks ago that he’d found something out about Ros that had upset him so much he was seriously considering taking his investment out of her restaurant. I asked him what it was because I’ve known Ros since we were kids, and I suspected he’d finally found out that she’s a lesbian.”

“You knew about that?”

“Of course. I was one of the first people she told. I’ve not seen much of her since then, because I felt really uncomfortable about it. But I’d never have uttered a word to Rupert about it. I knew what it would do to him. But I suspect that that was at the root of his anger against Ros.

“And he was terribly upset about the Ratepayers’ Association. He’d discovered that the treasurer was up to something fishy with the money. Instead of there being a large amount, about seven thousand in the current account, there was barely five hundred pounds. Rupert confronted the treasurer with his discovery, and he couldn’t account for the difference satisfactorily. Rupert was convinced he’d been using it to speculate in stocks and shares and line his own pockets. So he was bringing it up at the next meeting which I’m told would have been stormy, with Rupert baying for blood.”

Suddenly her words tripped a connection lurking at the back of Lindsay’s brain. The combination of a repeated phrase and a coincidence of figures clicked into place. “Carlton Stanhope,” she said.

Alexandra looked horrified. “Who told you?” she demanded. “No one knew. I made sure no one knew. I wouldn’t hurt Rupert like that. Who told you?”

Lindsay smiled ruefully. “You just did. You were unlucky, that’s all. I had a talk with Carlton this morning. He told me the William Mallard story?. The figures he gave me were identical to those you gave me, and figures are an area where people are notoriously inaccurate. Also, you used a couple of identical phrases. It had to be you who told him. And the only person you’d be likely to tell would be someone very close to you. By the way, I wouldn’t bother trying to hide it from the police. I suspect they already know; it was they who pointed me in his direction as a source of good information on Rupert.”

“If they question me, I’ll tell them the truth,” Alexandra said, in control of herself again. “But I don’t want to discuss it with you. I’ve said more than enough to someone who has no business interfering.”

Lindsay shrugged. “That’s your decision. But there’s one more thing I have to ask. It’s really important. Was Rupert in the habit of carrying a gun?”

Alexandra looked bewildered. “A gun?” she demanded incredulously.

“I’m told, a high-standard double-nine point two two revolver, whatever that is. He was carrying it when he was killed.”

Alexandra looked stunned. “But why? I don’t understand. Do you mean he knew he was at risk?”

“It looks like it. Did you know he had a gun? I’m told it was registered to him. Perfectly in order.”

Alexandra shook her head slowly. “I never saw him with a gun. My God, that’s awful. He must have been so afraid. And yet he said nothing about it. Oh, poor, poor, Rupert.”

“I’m sorry you had to know,” said Lindsay. “Look, if you change your mind and want to talk a bit more, you can always reach me through Judith,” she added, moving towards the door.

“Oh, and by the way,” she added as Judith rose to follow her, “when did you tell Carlton what Rupert had said about rethinking the future? Was it on Saturday night? Or was it Sunday morning?” She didn’t wait for the answer she suspected would be a lie. The look of fear in Alexandra’s eyes was answer enough.

10

Lindsay drove down the motorway at a speed that would have seemed tame in a modern high-performance car. In the soft-top sports car it was terrifying. Deborah was relieved that Lindsay’s lecture on the current state of play was absorbing enough to occupy her brain. “So you see,” Lindsay complained, “Alexandra has opened a completely new vista of possibilities. But the more I find out, the less I know. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this sort of thing. I can’t seem to make sense of any of it.”

“That doesn’t sound like you, Lin,” Deborah said with a smile. “Just be logical about it. We now know there were a fair few people less than fond of Rupert. Let’s run through them. Think out loud.”

“Okay,” Lindsay replied. “One: his son Simon. For reasons unknown, he was in bad odour. It sounds like more than his assertion of the right to independence by opening up his computer firm. But how much more, we don’t know. Yet.

“Two: his daughter Ros. For some unspecified reason, Rupert was seriously considering disinvestment. Now that may or may not be an effective weapon in the war against apartheid, but it sure as hell must be a serious threat to a small restaurant just finding its feet. Hopefully tonight will answer our questions about Ros. But the middle classes being what they are, five will get you ten that Daddy’s disenchantment with daughter was deviance of the dykey variety.

“Three: Emma Crabtree. Our Rupert marched off on Saturday to think about his future. What we don’t know is whether he told Emma about Alexandra; whether he’d decided he wanted a divorce and whether that prospect would have delighted or dismayed a woman who isn’t the most obviously grieving widow I’ve ever encountered. A lot of questions there.