‘And Bill spent a lot of time away from the garage, picking up cars for services, collecting parts and so on. He could have fitted the appointments in without Billy or Frankie thinking there was anything odd.’ Jude remembered something. ‘Jeremiah told me that he’d never met Bill Shefford.’

‘So? It seems that he was prepared to lie about a lot of things. Anyway, Jude, haven’t you done something similar?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Denied knowing people you’re treating as patients?’

‘Clients!’

‘Same difference. Haven’t you claimed not to know them because of your precious … client confidentiality?’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever actually …’ It wasn’t worth pursuing. Besides, Jude read a strange expression on her neighbour’s face. ‘I’ve a feeling you’ve worked out something else.’

‘Yes, I have, actually,’ came the smug response.

‘What?’ asked Jude wearily. ‘Go on, tell me.’

‘I believe I’ve solved the mystery of the timed MOT.’

‘Ooh, aren’t you the clever one?’

‘It comes from a lifetime of doing crosswords, Jude. Words and letters are not always what they appear to be.’ Carole pointed to the diary entry: ‘17 October 10.15 a.m. MOT.’

‘I’ve always been crap at crosswords, so you’ll have to explain it to me.’

‘It’s a matter, you see, of what “MOT” means.’

‘I know what it means and—’

‘There’s something else odd about this particular diary entry, which I didn’t realize yesterday.’ Carole’s finger found the relevant mark on the page. ‘On the next line, also crossed out, is a local telephone number.’

She held her mobile phone out to her neighbour. ‘It’s the last number I dialled.’

Jude keyed in the redial and was rewarded by the following message: ‘This is the Magic of Therapy Centre. There is no one here to take your call at the moment. Our office hours are …’

‘“The Magic of Therapy Centre”,’ she echoed. ‘Have you heard of it?’

‘I’ve not only heard of it,’ said Carole. ‘I’ve been there.’

TWENTY-FOUR

His hand was cold as he palpated Jude’s generous right breast, but there was nothing sexual in the contact. Dr Rawley knew the standards required by his profession. As it had been for Carole’s appointment, his thin body was clad in black.

‘And you say it’s not causing you pain, Mrs Nicholls?’ For the personal details at the Magic of Therapy Centre, she had reverted to one of her married surnames and registered as ‘Mrs Judith Nicholls’. At the reception desk she had also done a very convincing performance as a woman unhinged by anxiety. In one period of her varied life, Jude had made a living as an actress, and the experience was not wasted in her current situation.

‘No pain exactly. I’m just kind of aware of it all the time.’ She judged finely the tremor of ill-suppressed panic in her voice.