“I know who you are,” she replied, her Yorkshire accent as strong as her late husband’s. “And you should know better than to try that one on me. Once a hack, always a hack.”

“Hand on heart, Julie, I’m not here as a journo. I’m here ’cause I’m in the shit and I thought you might be able to help me,” Lindsay tried.

“Just why would I want to do that? It was your window he went through. And in my book, that means you know more about my husband’s death than you’re letting on.” Julie’s face settled into a scowl, and one of her ankle-length riding boots began to tap softly on the marble tiled floor of the hall.

“I thought you Yorkshire women were supposed to be shrewd cookies,” Lindsay said, shaking her head sadly. “Do you think if I was going to do anything shady with your husband I’d be daft enough to do it on my own doorstep? Come on, Julie, only the cops would go for something that obvious. You should know better. You’ve been around the trade union movement long enough to know just how bloody devious we all are.”

“Never mind the flannel. Tell me what you’re after and why you’re after it and who your oppo is and I’ll mebbe think about it.” The scowl hadn’t shifted, but the foot had stopped tapping.

“Sophie Hartley, Julie Jack. Sophie’s my partner. She’s a doctor, not a hack,” Lindsay said.

“Partner as in business or as in knocking off?” Julie demanded, folding her arms across her chest.

“Partner as in lover,” Sophie said coldly. “That can hardly come as a surprise if your husband shared his working life with you.”

Julie gave an unexpected smile, vividly reminding Lindsay of the woman she’d seen dancing the night away in London. “I’m not a bigot like my Tom. I don’t have a problem with that, Doctor Hartley.” Then she turned back to Lindsay and her face closed down again. “You’ve still not told me what you’re after or why you’re after it.”

“Like I said, I’m in the shit. The police haven’t arrested anyone, and I’m the only person they’ve given a really bad time to. Everybody thinks I had something to do with it, and I didn’t. I want to clear my name, because I want to go back home to America. I’ve got a funny feeling that might not be too easy if the police tell US Immigration I’m a murder suspect.”