“Quite a profitable wee break-in,” Lindsay said wryly.

“Technically, it wasn’t a break-in. I just made it look like one. I had keys,” he said importantly.

“Handy that Harry gave you the keys to the flat,” Lindsay remarked, trying to hide her surprise.

Alex gave her a sideways glance. “He didn’t actually give them to me,” he muttered.

Lindsay grinned. Another thing Harry had been less than frank about. There had been no mention of missing keys. “You mean you helped yourself?”

“Something like that,” he admitted. “In my line of business, you never know what might come in handy. You can sometimes sell things, if you catch my drift.”

Lindsay nodded. “Yes, I can see that having the keys to such a nice block of flats could be very profitable. So how come you never sold them?”

“After that woman was murdered there, the place was jumping with police. It wouldn’t have been too clever to mess about there, would it? And then I kind of forgot about it again till I saw Harry’s picture.”

“You knew about the murder?” Lindsay asked, delighted that he’d brought it up himself. “Did you know the woman that was killed?”

“No.” Alex looked chagrined at the admission.

“Did Harry ever mention her to you? That she was someone he knew?”

“Harry? No, he never talked about anything like that. Besides, that was the last time I saw him.”

“You mean, you were with Harry on the day of the murder? You were actually in the building?” Lindsay fought to keep her excitement under control.

“I was more than there. I saw the murderer,” he said self-importantly.

“You what?” Lindsay exploded.

Alex smiled, pleased with himself. “I saw the murderer.”

17

Lindsay could only stare at Alex. But as she evaluated what he’d said, a faint skepticism crept in. “How did you manage that, then?” she demanded.

He gave her the smile and the wide-eyed stare. “I’d been with Harry. I left the flat about six o’clock. I remember the time, because Harry’d just put the radio on for the news. Bor-ring! Anyway, I waited for ages for the lift, then I decided to go down the stairs because I was in a hurry. I had an appointment, see? I was just pushing the door open on to the sixth-floor landing when this woman came tearing out of a flat and ran down the stairs ahead of me. I don’t think she noticed me, but I saw her all right. You got any fags?”

Lindsay automatically handed over her packet. “So . . . why didn’t you go to the police when you heard about the murder?”