Lindsay let herself into the flat, wishing Sophie was home. As she closed the door behind her, she sensed another presence in the flat. Warily, she took her Swiss Army knife out of her bag and opened a blade. Not exactly the world’s most effective weapon, but better than nothing, she thought as she tiptoed down the hall. She cautiously walked into the living room and nearly dropped her knife in shock.

Sitting in the armchair opposite the door was Cordelia. She looked as if she hadn’t slept, and her clothes were uncharacteristically crumpled. “How the hell did you get in?” Lindsay demanded.

“You can put the knife away, Lindsay. I’m not about to attack you. I’m sorry about the surprise, but I needed to talk to you,” Cordelia remarked calmly.

Feeling a mixture of apprehension and foolishness, Lindsay folded the blade away. “You didn’t answer me,” she said. “How did you get in?”

“I took the precaution of helping myself to Sophie’s spare keys last night. It didn’t exactly require the skills of a master cracksman. They were hanging on the hook by the phone as usual. I had a feeling they’d come in handy,” Cordelia replied.

“It’s all over, you know. I found the evidence that Alison had on you. Coupled with Alex’s identification, and your fingerprints on the glass in Alison’s flat, I’d say they’ve got an open and shut case against you,” Lindsay said, fighting to control the surge of emotions that Cordelia’s cool presence was provoking. As she looked at her sitting there, Lindsay found it impossible to believe the evidence she herself had uncovered. Surely she must have got it wrong somehow?

But Cordelia made no attempt to argue. “Once you started to consider the idea that the identification might be correct, I knew you wouldn’t rest till you’d nailed me,” she acknowledged. “I mean, what chance would an ex-lover stand against that finely honed sense of justice of yours?” she added in a tone of heavy irony.

Lindsay found her legs were too weak to support her and she collapsed into the chair opposite Cordelia. “I still don’t understand. What in God’s name made you do it?”

Cordelia ran a hand through her thick dark hair. “That makes two of us. I still don’t understand either. I suppose it was a sort of temporary insanity.”

“I can’t see a court believing that. Stealing Mary Nkobo’s book was hardly something you did in the wink of an eye. How could you, Cordelia? You had it all. How could you throw it away? You must have known it would come out one day!” Lindsay wailed.