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
A deft act of intimacy that had been hidden from her when she’d been sitting down. A hand dipping down the lower back into the cleft. A lover’s knowledgeable hand.
Danny and Vin. Vin and Danny.
Jude’s brain hissed; thoughts tumbled round in it. She thought of Alfie standing by Vin’s bed in the early hours, calling him “Daddy.”
The two of them had alibis. Cast-iron alibis. As Leila Fox had reminded her, stupidly perfect alibis are still alibis.
But still, Danny and Vin, sitting together at the table and looking serenely across at her while Danny stroked her lover’s back.
It wasn’t her problem, she told herself. That messy and ugly chapter of her life was over.
She looked back at the house and she thought she saw a face at one of the windows. Someone watching her.
She pulled out her mobile and found the number.
“Leila?” she said. “It’s Jude. Can I come and see you?”
Sixty
Leila Fox hadn’t shared Jude’s sense of urgency. She had suggested that Jude could come and see her in the next day or two. It took some persuasion for her to agree to meet later in the day. Leila named a coffee shop in Holborn at five, after she had finished her shift. Jude arrived at quarter to five and she was halfway through her second cup when Leila arrived, looking weary and distracted.
“Can I get you one?” Jude asked.
Leila said that she could get her own. She went across to the counter and came back with a drink that smelled of sweet spices.
“Hard day?” said Jude.
“Not especially.”
Jude had the dismal sense that Leila was tired of her or, more likely, that she had better things to do in her free time.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said.
“I haven’t got long.”
“I’ll just say my say. All right?”
The detective gave the lightest of nods, so Jude continued. She described what she had seen when she had visited the Walthamstow house. When she got to the end, it felt anticlimactic.
“I thought I should tell you.”
“Why?”
Jude felt taken aback. She wasn’t sure what she had expected but it was more than that.
“Did you know that they were a couple?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Doesn’t it seem significant? That they’re together but they’ve kept it secret.”
“I don’t really know where to begin with this. I’m not sure it’s significant. And I don’t even think you’ve established that they really are a couple.”
“They’re definitely a couple. You know those intimate things that people do when they’re in a relationship. Touching each other. Exchanging looks. It’s unmistakable.”
“I suspect that everyone in that house is involved with everyone else, one way or another.”