His face jerked up and his lips seemed to curl inwards in a snarl. “What the hell do you mean?” he demanded.

“Someone had been leaving fixes and syringes in her room, according to Maggie. And Gloria said she’d noticed some of her disposable syringes had gone missing.”

“Jesus Christ!” he exploded. “What kind of bastard would do that? Why the hell didn’t Gloria tell me?”

“I suppose because she thought it was Moira who was stealing them, and it was her own business.”

“The stupid cow!” he howled, smashing his fist into the dashboard. “It’s her fault Moira’s dead. The silly bitch!”

I took a deep breath, then said, “I’m not convinced the two things are related. I’ve got an idea who was behind the heroin, and I don’t think it was the murderer. It’s a very different thing from being the passive supplier of the means of death and actually killing someone with your own hands.”

“So who was giving her heroin?”

“I don’t have any proof yet. And I’m not making wild accusations without proof.”

“You got to tell me. I’m hiring you. You got to tell me, Kate.”

“When I find out for sure, you’ll be the first to know,” I promised him. We were on the fringes of Moss Side, only a few minutes away from Moira’s mother’s house. I’d decided to leave for now any questions about other people’s motives. The last thing I wanted right now was to put any ideas into Jett’s head and have him flying off at half-cock. “Can you give me some directions?”

In a dull monotone, he told me Ms. Pollock’s address and how to get there. I pulled up in front of a council maisonette. It was less than fifteen years old, but already the cement facings were streaked and crumbling. These buildings would be pulled down before we citizens of Manchester had even finished paying for them.

“Like I said, Jett, I’ve got a few leads I want to pursue.” I leaned across him and opened the passenger door. “When you get back to Colcutt, make some music,” I advised him. “Try not to brood on what you’ve lost. Concentrate on the positive things she brought you.” If someone had said that to me, I’d probably have hit them. But it seemed to appeal to Jett’s New Age philosophy.

“You’re right,” he sighed, his shoulders drooping. He left the car and bent down to give me a little wave as he closed the door. He didn’t slam it either, not like most people do. I watched him till the door opened and a skinny woman let him in. Then I got into gear and headed for friendly territory.