It was after half past five when her second client left. Jude made some coffee and went back to her scrutiny of the diary, still convinced it had further secrets to yield. Though other thoughts were beginning to make connections in her mind, the green book remained the only physical piece of evidence she had.

Bill Shefford’s diagnosis of cancer did of course change everything. It brought back into the equation the possibility of suicide. As someone who had worked in a garage all of his adult life, he would have had the skills to booby-trap Tom Kendrick’s Triumph as a means of ending his own life. And, assuming he got the diagnosis round October the previous year, that would have explained the change of mood that Malee had noticed in him. His life had been going well, he was making a new start, he was happily remarried … and suddenly a dark shadow had spread itself over everything.

The other anomaly that the new information might explain was the death certificate. It had been legal for Dr Rawley to sign it off because he had been treating Bill Shefford. Had he been treating him for the cancer? Had he indeed diagnosed the cancer?

It was frustrating. All these tempting random thoughts which needed some overall format or template to link them together.

The telephone rang. The landline. It was Carole, saying she was back from the vet’s and would it be all right for her to come round? In her tense state, Jude found this little ritual even more annoying than usual. They were neighbours, for God’s sake! Why couldn’t Carole just knock on the door unannounced like any other normal human being?

‘Something to drink?’ asked Jude, as she ushered her visitor in.

‘Well, a cup of coffee would be—’

‘Stuff coffee! I’m going to open some wine.’

‘Isn’t it a bit early for—?’

‘No.’

While she unscrewed the Sauvignon Blanc (which had been transferred from kitchen table to fridge earlier and was now deliciously cold), Jude asked about Gulliver’s state of health.

‘Oh, he’s fine. Vet checked him over and it’s nothing.’

‘Was it the cough that got you worried?’

‘Yes. It can be a symptom of heartworms.’

Jude didn’t know what a heartworm was but didn’t bother to ask for an explanation. She was too preoccupied to care about heartworms.

Quickly, she told Carole what she’d learned from Red.

‘You’re right. That does change everything.’

But before further discussion, Jude’s mobile rang. ‘Oh, hello, Karen. Thanks for getting back to me. How are you both?’

‘In fighting form.’

‘Good. Listen, I was thinking back to that chat we had in the pub during the “Healing Is in the Head” conference …’

Unseen, Carole raised her eyes to the ceiling. A conversation about healing … huh. She picked up Bill Shefford’s diary and started to re-examine it.

‘Most enjoyable evening,’ asserted Karen.