‘These two people assaulted me in my room and threatened me with physical harm,’ she said flatly, nodding at the twins, who sneered back at her. ‘I want them charged.’ That, she hoped, would at least give the police something else to chew over, besides her!

Jennings sighed heavily. Blackmail, assault, threats? What the hell else was this damned case going to throw at them? ‘Sergeant,’ he said wearily. ‘If you would like to interview Mr and Miss Vander, I’ll deal with Mrs …?’

‘Ms Raynor,’ Phyllis said reluctantly, wondering if she could possibly get away with it if she didn’t give out her married name. Oh, she knew eventually that they’d track her down through marriage records, but by the time they did, who knew what else might have happened?

The inspector eyed her knowingly. He hadn’t been a police officer for nearly twenty years without knowing a chancer when he saw one. This one was going to be slippery, he could just tell.

‘Yes, sir,’ Sergeant O’Grady said. ‘Right then, you two, let’s get comfortable downstairs, shall we?’ Ideally, he would have separated the two, but there was no one else available to help him out with the interviews. WPC Loveday was too young, and Broadstairs too junior for something like this.

‘Sir,’ Trudy said to Jennings, as the inspector ushered an unhappy Phyllis into his office.

He turned to give her a jaundiced look. ‘Constable?’ he said heavily.

Trudy blinked, feeling nonplussed. ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’

‘You?’ Jennings had so many things that he would have liked to have said to this thorn in his flesh, that it was impossible to arrange them in order. Yet he was already feeling too tired to care – and he wasn’t even halfway through his shift yet! ‘Oh, just go and do something useful, Constable Loveday!’ he finally growled, slamming the door to his office in her face.

Rodney sighed, and slouched over to his desk. ‘What’s eating him?’ he muttered. He limped as he went, because his shins were still sore from the kicking he’d taken, and that at least did a little bit to cheer Trudy up.

She was just sitting – a shade forlornly – down at her own desk when she looked up and saw Clement, Vincent and a pretty girl with masses of curly ginger hair approaching her desk.

‘Hello Trudy,’ Clement said mildly. ‘This is Miss Arles. You remember, she had something she wanted to tell us? Well, apparently, it was the fact that she was a passenger in the car when Mr Parker crashed.’

And having thoroughly taken Trudy’s breath away and having made her jaw literally drop, he calmly pulled out a chair for Patsy and indicated that she should sit.

‘You might want to take notes,’ Clement added helpfully – and in massive understatement.

*