“OK, this is the best mulled wine ever,” Andee swooned as she took a generous sip. “Did you make it?”

“Of course,” Henry assured her with a wicked grin. “So, come on, don’t keep us in suspense. What’s the news?”

“Dan should be here,” Andee insisted. “Where is he?”

“Running late,” Claudia replied, “but he should be here soon.”

“Well, he might know what I’m about to tell you anyway, so I’ll carry on without him. Just before we left the house I had a call from my old boss, DCI Gould?”

Claudia nodded, remembering the name well, and feeling another flutter of unease.

Andee smiled and raised her glass. “Apparently Marcus Huxley-Browne was arrested yesterday and charged with conspiracy to commit arson. This morning he was remanded in custody.”

Claudia’s eyes widened with shock. This wasn’t what she’d expected to hear, not even close.

Marcy said, “How? What happened?”

“All Gould could tell me was that Uncle BJ was persuaded to name the lawyer who ‘commissioned’ the arson—probably via BJ’s gangland bosses, but no way was he going to give any of them up.”

“In short,” Graeme put in, “Huxley-Browne’s brief shopped him, presumably in exchange for a shorter sentence. Who knows? The point is that pond life is once again off the streets and will almost certainly serve time for what happened here.” To Marcy he added gently, “For what happened to you.”

Marcy’s eyes closed with a dizzying sense of relief as Claudia came to wrap her in her arms. It was taking a moment to connect with the fact that real justice was finally being served. They had no more to fear from Marcus, no need to try and persuade anyone that he’d been behind the fire; his lawyer—his crooked lawyer—had done it for them.

It wasn’t until Henry put a drink into her hand and an arm around her shoulders that Claudia realized she was shaking. She looked at her mother again and wanted to weep for what had been done to her. No amount of justice was ever going to make up for it, nothing in the world could erase those scars from her face or change the fact that they were there because her daughter had married a monster.

As though reading her mind, Marcy planted her hands on her shoulders and regarded her fiercely. “We can move on now,” she told her, “so let’s forget about him. We don’t want him at this party, and we especially don’t want him in our heads.”

She was right. Tonight, they were going to have fun—really crazy fun—and no way would Marcus Huxley-Browne spoil it. In fact, his arrest would make it an even bigger celebration, but for now only those here in this kitchen would know it.