“The Algarve,” she said, as if she had noticed Michelle looking. “Got back last week. My husband and I have a nice little villa there. He was a doctor, a plastic surgeon, but he’s retired now, of course. Anyway, what can I do for you? It’s been a long time since the coppers came to call.”

So Edith Dalton had landed on her feet after twenty-three years of marriage to Jet Harris. “Just information,” said Michelle. You’ve heard about the Graham Marshall case?”

“Yes. Poor lad.” Mrs. Gifford tapped her cigarette against the side of a glass ashtray. “What about him?”

“Your husband was in charge of that investigation.”

“I remember.”

“Did he ever talk about it, tell you any of his theories?”

“John never talked about his work to me.”

“But something like that? A local boy. Surely you must have been curious?”

“Naturally. But he made a point of not discussing his cases at home.”

“So he didn’t have any theories?”

“Not that he shared with me.”

“Do you remember Ben Shaw?”

“Ben? Of course. He worked closely with John.” She smiled. “Regan and Carter, they used to think of themselves. The Sweeney. Quite the lads. How is Ben? I haven’t seen him for years.”

“What did you think of him?”

Her eyes narrowed. “As a man or as a copper?”

“Both. Either.”

Mrs. Gifford flicked some ash. “Not much, if truth be told. Ben Shaw rode on John’s coattails, but he wasn’t half the man. Or a quarter the copper.”

“His notebooks covering the Graham Marshall case are missing.”

Mrs. Gifford raised a finely penciled eyebrow. “Well, things do have a habit of disappearing over time.”

“It just seems a bit of a coincidence.”

“Coincidences do happen.”

“I was just wondering if you knew anything about Shaw, that’s all.”

“Like what? Are you asking me if Ben Shaw is bent?”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know. John certainly never said anything about it.”

“And he would have known?”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “John would have known. Not much got by him.”

“So you never heard any rumors?”

“No.”

“I understand your husband was a commando during the war.”

“Yes. A real war hero, John was.”

“Do you know if he owned a Fairbairn-Sykes commando knife?”

“Not that I saw.”

“He didn’t have any mementos?”

“He gave everything up when he was demobbed. He never talked about those days much. He just wanted to forget. Look, where is all this leading?”

Michelle didn’t know how to come straight out with it and ask her if her ex-husband was bent, but she got the impression that Mrs. Gifford was a hard one to deceive. “You lived with Mr. Harris for twenty-three years,” she said. “Why leave after so long?”

Mrs. Gifford raised her eyebrows. “What an odd question. And a rather rude one, if I may say so.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

Mrs. Gifford waved her cigarette in the air. “Yes, yes, you’ve got your job to do. I know. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. I waited until the children left home. It’s amazing how much one will put up with for the sake of the children, and for appearances.”