Andrew Christie ushered the two of them into the living-room of an elegant and expensive flat. It occupied the basement and ground floor of a tall, narrow Victorian house, and the large living-room was exactly what Lindsay imagined a slightly pretentious television producer should inhabit. The furniture was Habitat—inevitably tasteful without exhibiting any taste—three two-seater settees and a plethora of low tables piled with magazines, newspapers, scripts, and half-full ashtrays. But the room was dominated by the electronic media. There was a giant television screen and a normal-sized set, two video recorders, an expensive hi-fi system, and yards of shelves containing records, cassettes, video tapes, and reel-to-reel tapes. Lindsay found it the least relaxing room she’d ever been in. Christie was in his late thirties, with shaggy blond hair, slim and wiry, and dressed in tight olive green jeans, an open-necked plaid shirt, and a shapeless hairy sweater. He looked the part.

“Sit down, do,” he said in a voice like a radio announcer’s. “I don’t quite know how I can help you. Lorna and I had only been seeing each other for about three months and I can’t say I was aware of her having enemies of sufficient seriousness to . . . well—to do this.”

“We were hoping you’d be able to tell us a bit about her. Her personality, her lifestyle, her friends, that sort of thing,” Lindsay responded gently. She knew she wouldn’t be able to press this man as she had done Cartwright. She understood his grief too well. “The more we know about Lorna, the more chance we have of finding out why she was killed. And by whom. I know it’s not easy to talk when it’s only just happened and we do appreciate you giving us some time. I know we’ve got no official standing here, but it’s important to us to establish who really did this. If you knew Paddy Callaghan like we do, you’d know that it would have been impossible for her to have committed such a cowardly crime.”

For the first time, emotion flickered across his face. “I miss Lorna,” he said. “I know a lot of people didn’t care too much for her; she had a very cutting tongue at times. But to me she was always very tender. She used to make me laugh. She could be very funny at other people’s expense. I don’t think she especially meant to be cruel, but not everyone could see the humor behind what she said.”