‘Jenny Lister,’ Vera said.

‘I’ve already told your sergeant everything I know.’ But was that true? Details were dribbling back into her mind. Like the fact that Jenny had mentioned going to see Michael Morgan.

Vera looked at her with clear, steady eyes. ‘Oh, surely not everything,’ she said. ‘Anyway, things move on. There are new lines to investigate, new questions arise.’ She paused. ‘Did you know Jenny was planning to write a book about the Elias Jones case?’

‘No.’ It wasn’t the question she was expecting. She wondered if this woman was entirely sane. But thinking about it, the idea of Jenny as a writer wasn’t surprising. Jenny had been convinced she was right about everything, and might see it as her duty to pass on her wisdom to the world.

Vera nodded and continued immediately.

‘Did you know she visited Mattie Jones every week in prison? Even when the lass was on remand?’

‘No. Not really.’ This time the answer was less emphatic and Vera picked up on the hesitation.

‘You were still working with Jenny before the case went to trial. Surely she would have told you?’

‘I was moved from the case as soon as Elias’s body was found,’ Connie said. ‘Standard practice, even before the disciplinary hearing.’

‘But you were based in the same office,’ Vera persisted. ‘You must have met in the tea room, bumped into each other in the Ladies. You’d have thought she’d tell you what she was up to.’

Connie shook her head. ‘Not Jenny’s style. She was discreet. I was no longer involved in the case.’

‘You don’t seem surprised. About the prison visits.’

‘No.’ Wood pigeons were calling in the trees on the other side of the river. They reminded Connie of childhood holidays in the country, long summer days. ‘Mattie was more than a client to Jenny. She’d known her for years. Jenny would have felt she’d let her down.’

‘So it would have been a kind of penance?’ Religion creeping in again.

‘Yes,’ Connie said. ‘Perhaps. Something like that.’

‘This book . . .’

‘Really, she didn’t say anything to me.’

‘Apparently,’ Vera paused, clearly choosing her words carefully, ‘she was quite evangelical about it. She wanted to tell the world what the social worker’s life was really all about. The human face. The moral dilemmas. Get away from all the tabloid stereotypes. Does that make sense to you?’

This time Connie paused. ‘Yeah, that sounds like Jenny. She could be quite priggish.’

Vera beamed. ‘Hallelujah! I never believe in saints. Someone’s telling the truth about the woman at last.’

Connie looked up, surprised, caught Vera’s eye and grinned too.

‘Did you know Michael Morgan had found himself another girlfriend? That she was having a baby by him?’ Vera asked. ‘At least that’s what he told Mattie. He could just have been trying to get her off his back, of course.’