Both Claire and Cordelia looked shocked by Lindsay’s question. But it was Claire who collected herself first and said in conciliatory tones, “It wasn’t like that. I was looking for you, and a mutual friend introduced me to Cordelia, who was in Glasgow at the time, also trying to get a lead on your whereabouts. So we joined forces and spent a lot of time trying to track you down. But you made a good job of your disappearing act.”

“And what the hell business of yours was it where I was?” Lindsay snapped, stalling while she took in what Claire had said.

“Jackie asked me to find you.”

“So why couldn’t she look for me herself if she was so desperate?” said Lindsay defiantly. She remembered Jackie Mitchell well—a hard-working, hard-bitten journalist, well capable of fighting her own battles. If Jackie had wanted to find her, she wouldn’t have delegated her mission to this toffee-nosed yuppie.

“It’s a bit hard to scour the world for someone when you’re behind bars,” Claire replied ironically.

“Behind bars? You mean . . . in prison?” Lindsay asked, confused.

“That’s right. She’s serving life for the murder of Alison Maxwell.”

Lindsay stared at Claire, unbelieving. “This has got to be some kind of sick joke,” she muttered. Lindsay turned to Sophie. “Tell me she’s making this up.”

Sophie shook her head. “She’s telling you the truth. The trial was just before Christmas. I’m sorry, I didn’t think to tell you.”

“Jesus,” Lindsay sighed, dragging out the syllables. “Alison? What the hell happened?”

Claire took over in businesslike fashion, perhaps because she sensed that Cordelia was too shaken to deal with Lindsay. “Alison was found strangled in her flat. Jackie had been there with her shortly before she was killed, and in the absence of any other obvious candidate, the police chose her. Unfortunately, the jury agreed with them. Shortly after her arrest, Jackie asked me to see if I could find you. She knew you’d been involved with a couple of murder investigations before, and she was very impressed with your courage over the Brownlow Common spy scandal. And of course, because you’re gay, she thought you’d be more sympathetic. She believed that if anyone could prove her innocence, it was you. While I was searching for you, I met Cordelia. I’m sorry if our relationship outrages you, but you can hardly have expected Cordelia to take a vow of chastity till you deigned to show up.”