She had been so certain that Baz had killed Penny. Ever since Sophie had passed on the information about the changes to the latest draft, she’d been running the film in her head of Penny inviting Baz to her flat, maybe even for a showdown over Meredith; of Baz arriving with her bottles of wheat beer; then of the murderous attack that had left Penny bleeding to death somewhere as prosaic as an Islington kitchen.

But she’d been wrong. Completely, utterly wrong. Her first serious suspect, Catriona Polson, had been stripped of motive. Now Baz Burton had been revealed as devoid of opportunity. Of the limited group of suspects she’d started with, only Meredith remained. And since she’d known from the start that while Meredith might have killed Penny in a moment of passion, so carefully staged a crime was beyond her, Lindsay was left with no one in the frame.

There was nothing for her to do now except admit to Meredith that she was utterly defeated by the mystery of Penny’s death. With a sigh that turned heads at nearby tables, Lindsay acknowledged to herself that she had failed not only Meredith but also Penny. Although her mind knew it for an over-reaction, her heart comprehended it as a betrayal of a friendship that had often sustained Lindsay when she needed it most. To admit that failure to Meredith of all people would be one of the hardest things she had ever faced. Leaving most of her drink untouched, Lindsay walked out into the sunshine and headed for the tube station.

She caught Meredith coming back from buying the newspapers. “At least they’ve lost interest in me right now. Kinda late, though,” Meredith had said as they went up in the lift. She had visibly lost weight even in the short time since Lindsay had last seen her. Her eyes lurked at the bottom of darkly shadowed sockets and her cheekbones seemed on the point of bursting through her taut skin.

“When did you eat last?” Lindsay had asked while she watched Meredith make them coffee.

“I went out for a pizza last night,” Meredith said. “I managed to get some down. But it’s hard to eat. I feel like I’ve got a rock lodged in my throat.” Lindsay’s heart went out to her, and she reached out impulsively to hug her friend. But this time, Meredith’s grief didn’t burst forth like an undammed stream. She sighed deeply, but her hand mirrored Lindsay’s, each stroking the other’s back in mutual sympathy. “When you love somebody and you commit yourself to sharing her life, you can’t help imagining what it would be like if she died,” she said softly. “Only nothing you imagine ever prepares you for the reality.”