So what the hell was going on?

Royston, with his journalist’s nose, knew instinctively that there was a story here, something tangled, something dark and sinister. Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn’t see the wood for the trees. He couldn’t be certain, either, that Mona was actually meeting anyone tonight; she could have simply decided to come out for a stroll.

After half an hour, Royston’s patience was starting to wear thin. He’d been hanging around all day with nothing much to show for it and didn’t fancy another hour or two of the same. With no sign of Sadie Wise putting in an appearance, he decided to go ahead and make the move.

Mona was standing by the Big Wheel when he sidled up beside her. The ride was circling round slowly, the seats swaying, the bright lights blinking against the blackness of the sky.

‘Ah, back in Haverlea, I see.’

Mona turned her head, frowning, but almost instantly her forehead cleared. ‘Mr Royston! Hello. Fancy seeing you here.’

‘Peter, please. And you’re Anne…’ He made a pretence of groping through his mind for her surname. ‘I know it. Just give me a moment and it’ll come back to me.’

‘Faulkner,’ she said. ‘Anne Faulkner.’

He noted how easily the lie slid from her lips. ‘Well, it’s very nice to see you again. I didn’t realise you’d be back so soon.’

She gave a shrug. ‘You can get tired of the city. I didn’t know you liked fairgrounds.’

‘No, well, not especially. I just came out for a walk.’ He nodded towards the wheel. ‘Thinking of taking a spin?’

‘I prefer to watch.’

‘Can’t say I blame you. I don’t have much of a head for heights.’ He paused and then said, ‘You’ve come back to give Sadie some support, I suppose.’

Mona narrowed her eyes. ‘Support?’

‘You need your friends at times like these. It must be hard for her. First of all her husband getting murdered and then all this business at the funeral… The police haven’t got the most vivid imaginations in the world. When it comes to suspects she’ll be up there at the top of the list.’

Mona gave a snort. ‘Nobody can think Sadie did it. That would be ridiculous.’

‘Nobody with a brain,’ he said. ‘So how did you two meet? Have you known each other for long?’

Mona’s cat-like eyes focused on him. She took a cigarette from a pack in her pocket, raised it to her lips, struck a match and lit it. There was nothing hurried in her movements, nothing to suggest that she was in any way anxious about this unexpected encounter. She exhaled the smoke in a long narrow stream. ‘If I didn’t know you better, Mr Royston, I might think you were squeezing me for information.’

He grinned amiably. ‘Not squeezing, just asking. I like to get my facts right.’

‘And what “facts” would those be?’

‘A small town like this runs on rumour and gossip. And poor Sadie is the main topic at the moment. You’d be surprised at how much speculation there is.’

Mona took one last glance at the Big Wheel and then started to walk away. ‘People shouldn’t listen to gossip.’

Royston stuck by her side, determined to get something out of her before they parted company. ‘Maybe not, but they do. It’s human nature. We like to think the worst of each other.’

‘So you’re trying to dig the dirt on Sadie.’

Royston feigned a look of horror. ‘Not at all. Why would I do that? No, you’ve got me all wrong. If anything, I think she’s the victim in all this. And it’s a shame, a crying shame.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘The truth, that’s what I’m after. That way we can stop all the wagging tongues.’

Mona gave him a quick sidelong glance. ‘Or get them wagging even faster.’

‘Ah, now, don’t be cynical.’

‘What do you expect? You’re a journalist, aren’t you? The only side you’re on is your own.’

‘Don’t you want to help Sadie?’

‘Sadie hasn’t done anything wrong. Why should she need help?’

‘It’s not always that simple.’

‘Not for you, maybe.’

Mona continued to manoeuvre her way through the crowd. The lights of the rides flashed brightly, and garish neon signs threw out invitations to shoot the ducks, throw some hoops or have their fortune told by the famous Madame Romany. The rumble of the roller coaster sounded like distant thunder.

Royston continued to stay close, trying to read her body language. She was confident at the moment, sure of herself. She might not like him but nor did she see him as any kind of threat. He would need to change that if he was going to shake any useful information out of her.

‘Has Sadie told you not to speak to me?’ he asked. ‘Is that what’s going on here?’

Mona stopped and raised her eyes briefly to the sky before lowering her gaze to stare at him. ‘It’s been nice to see you again, Mr Royston, but I think we’re finished here.’ She dropped her cigarette butt on the ground and killed it with the heel of her boot. ‘Goodnight.’

Royston let her have the satisfaction of thinking he’d been dismissed. He gave a nod. ‘Goodnight then, Anne. Enjoy the fair.’

She gave a small triumphant smile before walking away. ‘I will.’

Royston kept his eyes fixed on the back of her head as he tagged along behind, taking care to keep out of sight. She glanced over her shoulder several times as if to reassure herself that he was really gone and then went over to a stall and bought a coffee. He waited a few minutes, giving her time to feel secure, before approaching her again. She was sipping from a paper cup when he called out from behind. ‘Mona?’

The girl spun round, her face instantly twisting as she saw who it was and realised her mistake. She glowered at him from over the rim of the cup, her eyes cold and angry.

‘Just one more thing,’ he said, strolling up to her. ‘I really couldn’t leave without asking. Why exactly are you calling yourself Anne Faulkner?’

‘Oh, my,’ she said sarcastically. ‘We have been doing our homework, haven’t we?’

‘It’s a reasonable question.’

‘It’s none of your business.’

Royston smiled thinly at her. ‘You think? Only it makes me curious, and when I’m curious my mind starts going off in all kinds of fascinating directions.’

‘Fascinating?’ she replied mockingly. ‘I doubt that very much.’

‘All right, then. Let’s call it a loose end – one of many when it comes to Sadie Wise. Now you can’t blame me for wondering why —’

‘You’re seeing mystery where there isn’t any,’ she interrupted sharply. ‘It’s quite straightforward really.’

Royston scratched at his chin while he scrutinised her. ‘Is it?’

‘Very,’ she said. Mona gave a sigh and lifted her eyes to the heavens again. ‘Haven’t you ever got tired of who you are, wanted a change? It’s just a bit of fun, a chance to escape and be someone different for a while.’

But Royston wasn’t buying it. ‘And Sadie’s happy to go along with this charade?’

‘Why not? It’s not harming anyone.’

‘A bit careless, though, signing into the hotel under your own name.’

Mona gave a snort of derision. ‘It would only be careless if I was trying to hide something.’

‘I just can’t see the point of it, that’s all.’

‘Okay, I’ll explain, but not here. Let’s go somewhere quieter.’

As she started to walk again, Royston fell in beside her. She was playing for time, he thought, trying to come up with a more convincing explanation. ‘So, you’re Paul Farrell’s daughter,’ he said as they veered away from the rides and headed towards the far end of the fair.

Mona said nothing.

‘I hear he might be expecting good news in the New Year.’

Again she said nothing.

‘So you and Sadie: how long have you —’

Mona finally broke her silence. ‘God, don’t you ever get tired of interfering in other people’s business?’

‘Not really. It’s only tiresome when other people lie to you.’

‘And you think that’s what I’m doing?’

‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘You haven’t really told me anything yet, at least nothing substantial. How can I draw any conclusions before I’ve got the facts?’