Lindsay closed her eyes and summoned up a picture from the past. This time, she didn’t need hypnotherapy to reach the information.

“Ian used to drink herbal tea, so he just used to get the waitress to bring him a pot of boiling water and he’d dunk his own bag. Anyway, on the morning he died, Laura cannoned into our table and sent his pot of water flying. It looked just like a regular bit of clumsiness, and they had a bit of a shouting match. Laura ended up marching off to the kitchen and getting him another pot. And that’s how she did it,” Lindsay concluded triumphantly.

Sophie sighed. “Did what, Lindsay?”

“D’you remember that woman who was at Paige’s birthday party? The allergy specialist?”

Sophie nodded. “The one from Sonoma?”

“That’s right. Well, she was telling me how they do allergy testing. They make a concentrated extract of the allergen and put it in solution. Apparently, you have to be really careful with labelling, because the liquids are mostly colorless, odourless and tasteless. Just the sort of thing you could dump into a pot of hot water without anyone noticing, don’t you think?”

Sophie shook her head, bemused. “That’s a bit of a jump, isn’t it?”

“Logic, that’s what it is.”

Sophie couldn’t help chuckling. “Fine. So what next, Sherlock?”

Lindsay flopped on the bed and stretched out. “I suppose a quick bonk would be out of the question?”

“You suppose right. On the other hand, the offer of a long, slow, sensuous night of passion might just persuade me . . .”

“Blackpool,” Lindsay muttered sleepily.

“Sorry?” Sophie yawned. “I thought you said Blackpool.”

“I did. What time is it?”

Sophie rolled over and picked up her watch. “Ten to nine. If we’re quick, we’ll make breakfast. I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous. Must be all that passion last night.” She turned to cuddle Lindsay, but clutched at empty air as her partner rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. “Hey,” Sophie yelled in protest. “What happened to ‘I’ll respect you in the morning’?”

Lindsay grinned. “I can still respect you from the shower, can’t I? We need to get a move on if we’re going to get to Blackpool this morning.”

If she said anything more, it was drowned in the hiss of the shower. “What did I do to deserve this?” Sophie groused amiably as she followed Lindsay into the bathroom. “What is all this about Blackpool? Does this mean you’ve given up hunting for Union Jack’s killer? Are we going for a ride on the big dipper? Do I get to wear a kiss-me-quick hat? Will you smother me in candy-floss and lick it off slowly?”