‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I can’t do that. You’re asking me to judge you, but that’s not my job. My job was to find the truth and that’s what I’ve done. What happens next isn’t up to me.’ He looked around him one last time. ‘You have to go to the police and tell them what you did. Maybe you’ll be able to persuade them that Kathryn had nothing – or very little – to do with it. I’ll be honest and tell you I don’t really care what happens. But it’s like I’ve said. It’s not my decision.’

Anne nodded slowly. ‘I understand. How long can you give me?’

‘The sooner you do it, the easier it will be.’

‘Yes. That’s probably true.’

‘There is one last thing . . .’

‘What’s that, Mr Hawthorne?’

Hawthorne smiled. ‘My son couldn’t believe I was seeing you today. He’s grown out of your books now, but he’s still a big fan.’

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Hawthorne had taken a book out of his inside pocket. It had a brightly coloured picture of two children and a pirate ship on the cover. A one-eyed pirate was waving a sword. The book was called Flashbang Trouble, the book that he had mentioned at Southampton and which had made his son laugh out loud. He also had a pen.

‘Could you sign it for him?’ he asked.

Anne stared for a moment, then took the book and the pen. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘What’s his name?’

‘As a matter of fact, he’s called William too.’

‘Oh.’

I saw her write a message. To William, with love. Keep reading! Anne Cleary. She handed it back.

‘Thank you,’ Hawthorne said.

‘It’s a pleasure, Mr Hawthorne.’

We left.

24

A Postcard from Alderney

I have to make a confession. All along I’d thought that the real killer of Charles and Helen le Mesurier was Terry, our taxi driver. It was a thought that I’d never articulated – it lurked somewhere in the back of my mind – but he did actually have a motive: he’d mentioned that Charles le Mesurier had been planning to start a new taxi service that would have been enough to put him out of business. And it seemed more than coincidental that he had been present at the times of both murders. He had been outside The Lookout when Charles was killed and, by his own admission, he had driven past when Helen left the next day. I was just glad that I had never mentioned any of this to Hawthorne. I would have looked ridiculous.