‘You didn’t call out?’

‘No, we thought she was asleep. That’s why we didn’t speak to each other, not even in whispers. But she must have heard us.’ Her voice broke a little. ‘I went straight to bed. Chris was hungry. I said if he was as quiet as a mouse he could get himself something from the fridge, and I told him where the knives and forks and plates were. The next thing I heard this ghastly scream and I ran out and – and Chris was . . . There was blood everywhere . . .’

The policeman waited until she was calmer.

‘Why do you think she attacked him with a knife?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘I think you do, Rosamund.’

‘Perhaps I do.’ Rosamund looked down. ‘She didn’t like me going out.’

‘Because she was afraid of being there alone?’

‘Della Galway,’ said Rosamund, ‘wasn’t afraid of anything. Mrs Swanson was nervous about burglars, but Della wasn’t. Everyone in the house knew about the woman next door getting coshed, and they were all nervous. Except Della. She didn’t even mention it to me, and she must have known.’

‘So she didn’t think Chris was a burglar?’

‘Of course she didn’t.’ Rosamund started to cry. ‘She saw a man – my man. She couldn’t get one of her own. Every time I tried to talk about him she went all cold and stand-offish. She heard us come in last night and she understood and – and it sent her over the edge. It drove her crazy. I’d heard they wanted her to see a psychiatrist at work, and now I know why.’

The policeman shivered a little in spite of his long experience. Fear of burglars he could understand, but this . . . ‘She’ll see one now,’ he said, and then he sent the weeping girl home to her mother.

The Double

STRANGE DISHEVELLED WOMEN who had the air of witches sat round the table in Mrs Cleasant’s drawing room. One of them, a notable medium, seemed to be making some sort of divination with a pack of Tarot cards. Later on, when it got dark, they would go on to table-turning. The aim was to raise up the spirit of Mr Cleasant, one year dead, and also perhaps, Peter thought with anger and disgust, to frighten Lisa out of her wits.

‘Where are you going?’ said Mrs Cleasant when Lisa came back with her coat on.

Peter answered for her. ‘I’m taking her for a walk in Holland Park, and then we’ll have a meal somewhere.’

‘Holland Park?’ said the medium. If a corpse could have spoken it would have had a voice like hers. ‘Take care, be watchful. That place has a reputation.’

The witch women looked at her expectantly, but the medium had returned to her Tarot and was eyeing the Empress which she had brought within an inch or two of her long nose. Peter was sickened by the lot of them. Six months to go, he thought, and he’d take her out of this – this coven.