Chapters (78)
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Remarkable Praise for Nicci French
- Also by Nicci French
- About the Publisher
“No, you need to stop all of this. You need to get out of this place and be normal.”
“I’ll think about it. I promise. Let me get through the funeral first.”
Thirty-Eight
Jude had been to seven funerals in her life before. Two of them had been in churches, four in crematoriums and one of them, for an uncle she had barely known, had been in a kind of conference center just outside Birmingham. The venue for Liam’s funeral was his workshop. When Jude first heard this, she thought it was a strange idea, almost blasphemous, and then immediately she changed her mind. It seemed like the right idea. Liam didn’t do what other people did, even when he was dead.
When she got out of the Uber at the entrance to the industrial estate, she saw people arriving, an improbable splash of color moving between the drab, dilapidated units. She felt oddly self-conscious as the only person who was dressed more for a traditional funeral. The instruction had been to dress colorfully but that morning, preparing herself, she had lost her nerve. She had colorful clothes. She had an orange jumpsuit. She had a skirt that was all fraying strips of silk in yellow and blue and red. She had a feather boa from some fancy-dress party long ago. She had a choice of bright and patterned tops. But most of them were still in her old flat, which was Nat’s home now and not hers, and the ones she had brought with her she didn’t even try on. She was an ex-girlfriend of Liam’s. She was involved in his death. She was responsible for the administration of the will. This wasn’t a time for her to draw attention to herself. She decided to wear one of her androgynous suits, gray, with a white silk shirt. When she had bought the suit, she had hoped that, in the right light, it might make her look like Marlene Dietrich, but now she just hoped it would help her to pass unobserved among all the carnivalesque costumes.
She didn’t recognize anyone until she saw Leila Fox, standing just outside the entrance to the workshop. She walked across to her, feeling as always slightly uneasy. When the detective saw her, she gave a smile.
“Well, we’d better not go in together.”
“What do you mean?”
Leila gestured at what Jude was wearing and then at herself. Jude couldn’t stop herself from smiling. They were dressed almost identically.
“People will think we planned it.”
“You probably think it’s strange, my being here,” said Jude.
“I don’t think it’s strange at all. You’re the ex-girlfriend. You’re an executor. And now you’re apparently a friend of the widow.” The way Leila said it, it felt more like an accusation than a description. “Anyway,” she continued, “I was hoping you’d be here.”
“Why?”