While she was working with the Hames police, Frejah must have seen or been shown the witness accounts describing how Antterland, or someone who looked just like him, was seen leaving the house after the murder. She must have been told about the missing money – a clear motive for the killing. And if fifteen years later, my contact, Spoder, then an officer on another force, could remember the story that Lew Antterland had a twin brother, she would surely have been told, or found out about it. Those details were memorable, unusual, not easily ignored.

I added these thoughts to the pages of notes I was taking of the Antterland case.

But then, with a feeling of guilt, I put everything aside. Jo’s remarks to me had been important. She was not a writer, and lacked any need or aspiration to be one, but channelled her artistic abilities into the design and sculpting work she did. However, she had an uncanny awareness of and sensitivity towards what I tried to do in my books. We had been living together for many years. Jo knew more about my writing than I ever liked to admit. I had learned to listen to her.

She was right about the Frejah story: I was obsessing about a minor mystery from fifteen years earlier, of no lasting interest or relevance.

Once again, my absorption in the Frejah story had made me unaware of the passing of time. It was now close on midnight. My eyes were tired and I knew I should not have wasted most of the evening on this. I closed down my study, switching off all the equipment and lights. I headed for the bedroom.

While undressing I noticed that the clothes I was wearing while travelling on Dearth were still lying in a heap on the floor. It was time they were laundered. As I checked that the pockets were empty I found, to my surprise, deep in one of the back pockets, a stiff plastic card.

It was a clean, brilliant white, with an embedded computer chip in the centre. Apart from a small hotel logo printed in gold in one corner, and a border strip coloured bright red, there was no identification.

I placed it on my bedside table, then went to the bathroom, dumped the clothes in the laundry basket, took a brief shower and brushed my teeth. I was expecting Jo would be home again the next day, giving us a few more days together before her trip to Muriseay.

A Detective Inspector Calls

15

A Detective Inspector Calls