“Fine. I’m all for Meredith’s name being cleared. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s even come under suspicion.” Baz spoke vehemently, her voice rising. “Anyone with half a brain could see that Meredith would never hurt a fly. She’s one of the gentlest people I’ve ever met.”

There were a lot of words Lindsay would have applied to Meredith before she got to gentle. “Have you known her long?” she asked.

“Almost as long as Penny. Which makes it about eleven years. I met her the first time I went to San Francisco. And I’ve seen her quite a bit over the years, both in the US and here in England. When she’s in town on business, we sometimes have dinner. I really hope you can get the police off her back,” she added, beaming a wide white smile at Lindsay.

“You knew right from the start they were lovers?”

Baz’s lips quirked in a half smile. “You know what they say. It takes one to know one. It took Penny about four years to tell me the big secret, but I sussed it from day one. But why all the questions about Meredith?” she demanded, suddenly suspicious. “I thought you were supposed to be on her side?”

“I am. Just background, that’s all. I’m told that you had seen a lot of Penny this trip?”

“I wouldn’t have said ‘a lot,’” Baz objected. “We met a few times to discuss the progress of her new book.”

“Did you normally do that?”

“Not with the Darkliners series, no. Pen could knock them off standing on her head with one arm tied behind her back. She’d just send me a two-page synopsis so the art department could get busy with the cover and we could do the jacket copy. Then twelve weeks later, like clockwork, another fifty thousand words of Darkliners title would drop through the letter box. Then we’d have a meeting to sort out the edits, and that was about it, really. If she was over here anyway, we’d do lunch or dinner, but for pleasure, not work.”

“But this time it was different?” Lindsay prompted.

“Inevitably. Heart of Glass was a very different book from anything Pen had attempted before.” Baz gave Lindsay another dazzling smile. “I wanted to give Pen all the support she needed to complete it.” Sensing her facial expression was inappropriate, Baz swiftly changed to a suitably sad look. “Tragically, that didn’t happen.”

“How was the book progressing?” Lindsay asked briskly, refusing to be sidetracked into a sharing of sorrow.

“Very well. About 70,000 words on paper.” Baz had suddenly become abrupt, her previous chattiness vanishing as if it had never been.

“Do you have a copy of the manuscript?”

“No. I don’t have any text. I don’t even have a synopsis. Pen was guarding this one with her life.” As she realized what she had said, Baz’s mouth fell open.

“So it would seem,” Lindsay said grimly. “So what exactly was it that her killer didn’t want the world to read?”