“How well do you know Donald?” Lindsay asked, lighting a cigarette. Old habits die hard, she thought ruefully to herself. She could survive for days at a time in her outdoor routine in Italy without recourse to a cigarette. But put a phone in her hand, and it was second nature to have a cigarette in the other. Lindsay shook herself mentally and listened to Rosalind’s response.

“Not too well, I’m afraid. I know him to say hello to in the street.”

“But not well enough to set up a meeting with him?”

“Afraid not. But why don’t you just make an appointment to see him professionally?” Rosalind suggested. “It wouldn’t be unreasonable for you to need to see a tax specialist. You’ve been working abroad, you’ve no idea what your tax position is on your foreign earnings. You can tell him I recommended you—he sorted out a problem with the Inland Revenue for me a couple of years ago.”

“That’s a good idea. But how do I get him talking about Alison?”

“You’re the journalist. I thought your forte was getting people to talk about things they didn’t want to discuss?” Rosalind teased.

“Miracles take longer,” Lindsay muttered. “By the way,” she added, trying to sound nonchalant. “Did Harry know Alison at all?”

“Harry?” Ros’s astonishment was obvious even in one word. “I don’t think so, Lindsay. He certainly never mentioned her to me. I suppose they might have had a nodding acquaintance from the lift or something, but I don’t think he knew her at all.”

“I just wondered if her murder had unsettled him at all,” Lindsay said lamely.

Ros laughed. “It did. He got very jittery about us all being murdered in our beds. I think he’s been rather more discriminating about who he brought home since then. Why d’you ask?”

“It’s probably nothing. It just seemed odd to me that the burglary happened just after I started looking into Alison’s death. Must just be a coincidence.”

“It struck me last night, actually. But I can’t for the life of me see what the connection could be.”

“You’re probably right. If anything occurs to you, let me know. And thanks for the suggestion about Donald. I’ll get back to you.” Lindsay rang off and pondered. She made a mental list of things to do in the morning. First, make an appointment with Donald Mottram. Second, get hold of Jimmy Mills and pump him about Alison. She vaguely remembered him from her days at the Clarion, but she’d have to work up an excuse for seeing him. Third, arrange a meeting with Ruth and Antonis. And she’d have to pump Sophie about Alison’s gynecologist. It was all becoming very complicated.