‘I’d say yes to the latter,’ Ivers answered, ‘but no to the others. She seemed perfectly all right to me.’

‘What was she doing?’

‘Doing?’

‘Yes. When you called. You went into the front room, didn’t you? Was she listening to music, polishing the silver, watching television, reading?’

‘I don’t know. Nothing… I… eating, perhaps. There was some cake on the table. I remember that.’

‘What was she wearing?’

‘I can’t remember.’

‘Claude’s hopeless about things like that,’ Patsy cut in. Half the time he doesn’t even notice what I’m wearing.’

Taking in the stooped, lanky figure of the composer in his usual baggy clothes, Banks was inclined to believe her. Here was the genius so wrapped up in his music that he didn’t notice such mundane things as what other people said, did or wore.

On the other hand, Ivers obviously had a taste for attractive women. In different ways, both Veronica and Patsy were evidence enough of that. And what red-blooded male would forget a woman as beautiful as Caroline Hartley answering the door in her bathrobe? Surely a man with a taste for so seductive a woman as Patsy Janowksi couldn’t fail to remember, or to react? But then Ivers knew Caroline; he knew she was a lesbian. Perhaps it was all a matter of perspective. Banks pressed on.

‘What about you, Ms Janowski? Can you remember what she was wearing?’

‘I didn’t even go into the house. I only saw her standing in the doorway.’

‘Can you remember?’

‘It looked like some kind of bathrobe to me, a kimonostyle thing. Dark green I think the colour was. She was hugging it tight around her because of the cold.’

‘What time did you arrive?’

‘After seven. I left here about twenty minutes after Claude.’

‘How long after seven?’

‘I’m not sure. I told you before. Maybe about a quarter after, twenty past.’

‘What were you wearing?’

‘Wearing?’ Patsy frowned. ‘I don’t see what that’s-’

‘Just answer, please.’

She shot his right lapel a baleful glance. ‘Jeans, boots and my fur-lined jacket.’

‘How long is the jacket?’

‘It comes down to my waist,’ Patsy said, looking puzzled. ‘Look, I don’t-’

‘Would you say that Caroline was expecting someone else? Someone other than you?’

‘I couldn’t say, really.’

‘Did she react as if she had been expecting someone else when she saw you standing there at the door? Did she show any disappointment?’

‘No, not especially.’ Patsy thought for a moment. ‘She was real nice, given who I am. I’m sorry, but it all happened so quickly and I was too concerned about Claude to pay much attention.’

‘Did she seem nervous or surprised to see you, anxious for you to leave quickly?’

‘No, not at all. She was surprised to see me, of course, but that’s only natural. And she wanted to shut the door because of the cold.’

‘Why didn’t she ask you in?’

Patsy looked at the hearth. ‘She hardly knew me. Besides, all I had to ask her was whether Claude was there.’

‘And she said he wasn’t.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you believed her?’

Patsy’s tone hardened. She spoke between clenched teeth. ‘Of course I did.’

‘Are you sure he wasn’t still in the house?’

Ivers leaned forward. ‘Now wait-’

‘Let her answer, Mr Ivers,’ Sergeant Hatchley said.

‘Caroline said he’d gone. She said he’d just left the record and gone. I hadn’t any reason to believe she was lying.’

‘Was she in a hurry to get rid of you?’

‘I’ve told you, no. Everything was normal as far as I could tell.’

‘But she didn’t invite you inside. Doesn’t that seem odd to you, Ms Janowski? You’ve already said it was so cold on the doorstep that Caroline Hartley had to hold her robe tight around her. Wouldn’t it have made more sense to invite you in, even if just for a few minutes? After all, Mr Ivers here says he only stayed for five minutes.’

‘Are you trying to suggest that I did go inside?’ Patsy exploded. ‘Just what’s going on in that policeman’s mind of yours? Are you accusing me of killing her? Because if you are you’d better damn well arrest me right now and let me call my lawyer!’

‘There’s no reason to be melodramatic, Ms Janowski,’ Banks said. ‘I’m not suggesting anything of the kind. I happen to know already that you didn’t enter the house.’

Patsy’s brow furrowed and some of the angry red colour drained from her cheeks. ‘Then I… I don’t understand.’

‘Did you hear music playing?’

‘No. I can’t remember any.’

‘And you didn’t ask to go inside, to look around?’

‘No. Why should I? I knew he wouldn’t still be there if Veronica wasn’t home.’

‘The point is,’ Banks said, ‘that Mr Ivers could have been in the house, couldn’t he? You’ve just confirmed to me that you didn’t go in and look.’

‘I’ve told you, he wouldn’t-’

‘Could he have been inside?’

She looked at Ivers, then back to Banks. ‘That’s an unfair question. The goddamn Duke of Edinburgh could have been inside for all I know, but I don’t think he was.’

‘The thing is,’ Banks said, ‘that nobody saw Mr Ivers leave. Caroline Hartley didn’t invite you in, even though it was cold, and you didn’t insist on seeing for yourself.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything,’ Ivers burst out, ‘and you know it. It was pure bloody luck on your part that anyone noticed me arrive, or Patsy. You can’t expect them to be watching for me to leave, too.’

‘Maybe not, but it would have made everything a lot tidier.’

‘And if you’re suggesting that Caroline didn’t let Patsy in because I was there, have you considered that she might have been hiding someone else? Have you thought about that?’

‘Yes, Mr Ivers, I’ve thought about that. The problem is, no one else was seen near the house between your visit and Ms Janowski’s.’ He turned to Patsy. ‘When you left, did you notice anyone hanging around the area?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Concentrate. It could be important. I’ve asked you before to try to visualize the scene. Did you see anyone behaving strangely, or anyone who looked furtive, suspicious, out of place?’

Pasty closed her eyes. ‘No, I’m sure I didn’t… Except-’

‘What?’

‘I’m not very clear. There was a woman.’

‘Where?’

‘The end of the street. It was dark there… snowing. And she was some distance away from me. But I remember thinking there was something odd about her, I don’t know what. I’m damned if I can think what it was.’

‘Think,’ Banks encouraged her. The timing was certainly right. Patsy had called at about twenty past seven, and the killer – if indeed the last observed visitor was the killer – only two or three minutes later. There was a good chance that they had passed in the street.

Patsy opened her eyes. ‘It’s no good. It was ages ago now and I hardly paid any attention at the time. It’s just one of those odd little things, like a déjà vu.’

‘Did you think you knew this woman, recognized her?’

‘No. It wasn’t anything like that. I’d remember that. It was when I got to King Street. She was crossing over, as if she was heading for the mews. We were on opposite sides and I didn’t get a very close look. It was something else, just a little thing. I’m sorry, Chief Inspector, really I am. Especially,’ she added sharply, ‘as any information I might give could get us off the hook. I simply can’t remember.’

‘If you do remember anything at all about the woman,’ Banks said, ‘no matter how minor a detail it might seem to you, call me immediately, is that clear?’

Patsy nodded.

‘And you’re not off the hook yet. Not by a long chalk.’

Banks gestured for Hatchley to get up, a lengthy task that involved quite a bit of heaving and puffing, then they left. Banks almost slipped on the icy pathway, but Hatchley caught his arm and steadied him just in time.

‘Well,’ said the sergeant, stamping and rubbing his hands outside the Lobster Inn, ‘that’s that then. I don’t mind doing a bit of extra work, you know,’ he said, glancing longingly at the pub, ‘even when I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon. I know it’s not my case, but I wish you’d fill me in on a few more details.’