I said uncertainly, ‘I don’t quite understand.’

‘You’re not that dumb,’ she said. ‘David didn’t bring me from New York just for my beautiful brains. When he had that heart attack we were – you know – making love. After it happened, Dr Collins told him to cut out sex for a while.’ She smiled thinly. ‘I often wondered how his wife felt about that. I knew how I felt.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, David thought that if he came here he wouldn’t be able to help himself and it was best to keep away.’

‘You’ve been very frank, Miss Tomsson,’ I said. ‘Thank you.’

I stood up and she said, ‘There’s no point in telling lies now, is there, Mr … I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name already. I’m no good at names.’

‘Kemp.’ As she walked with me to the door I said, ‘What are you going to do now?’

‘The rent’s paid on the apartment until the end of the quarter. I might stay until then. I might go back to the States, although I think not. I might go to London – I’ve never been over there.’ She drooped a little. ‘There are too many memories here and in New York.’

I took out my wallet and extracted a card. ‘If you come to England, look me up,’ I said. ‘I know some people in the modelling game who might help you.’ I didn’t, but I would by the time she landed at Heathrow. ‘No strings, Miss Tomsson.’

She took the card. ‘Thank you, Mr Kemp. I appreciate the gesture and I might take you up on it.’

I regarded her. Like Jill Salton, she was a physically healthy specimen glowing with vitality but again, as in Jill Salton, I detected a weariness of spirit, a guttering of the inner flame. Abruptly, I said, ‘How many times have you been out of the apartment in the last three weeks?’

‘A couple of times, to get groceries. Why do you ask?’

‘Listen – what’s done is done,’ I said. ‘I don’t pretend to know what happens to the dead, but I do know that the living must go on living. Get out of here, Miss Tomsson. Get out and live a little. You’ll find it comes easier with practice.’

‘You’re a nice man, Mr Kemp,’ she said. ‘Do you know that? Not everyone would have that much regard for a person like me.’ There was an undertone of self-contempt and her eyes had gone misty.