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
“What do you mean? You must know something.”
“Someone said something about a phone.”
“What do you mean, a phone?”
“A phone that belongs to someone.”
“I’ve got a phone that belongs to a friend of mine,” said Jude. “It rang and I answered it.”
“Where is it?”
Jude pointed to the table.
“We’d better just leave it there,” said the officer.
“I wasn’t thinking of doing anything with it.” The atmosphere was awkward, as if they were people who had been introduced at a party and had swiftly run out of things to say to each other. “So what do we do now?”
“We wait.”
“What for?”
“Someone’s coming up from London.”
“That’ll take ages.”
“So we’d better get comfortable.”
“Do you want tea or something?”
“We’re all right.”
The thought of sitting with these two officers for however many hours it was going to be felt unbearable.
“Is it all right if I go and lie down?”
“That’s fine,” said the female officer. “I’ll have to come with you.”
“What for?”
“We were told to keep an eye on you.”
So Jude and the female police officer went upstairs to her bedroom and Jude lay on the bed, on top of the duvet, and the officer sat in a chair in the corner. Jude closed her eyes, not because she thought there was any chance at all of going to sleep, but just so she wouldn’t feel any need to talk. But she did go to sleep, because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake.
“They’re here.”
For a moment, Jude didn’t know where she was, who was talking to her, who it was who was here. Then she recognized the policewoman leaning over her. She got up from the bed and felt terrible. It would have been better not to have slept at all: her head was thick and woozy. She had a sour taste in her mouth.
“What’s the time?”
“Quarter past three.”
The two detectives were sitting in the living room when Jude was led in. She had been expecting men in sharp suits, but they looked more like two teachers on a field trip, a bit disheveled. The woman was tall and strong-looking, broad-shouldered. She was wearing a mud-streaked jacket and her T-shirt was inside out. Her hair was a tangled mass of brown curls and she had clear gray eyes that were gazing at Jude in a way that made her feel she was being assessed. The man was younger and was wearing what looked like walking gear: a wind-cheater, jeans and hiking boots.
They introduced themselves as Detective Inspector Leila Fox and Sergeant Brendan Patterson. Jude sat in a chair facing them.
“Our colleagues are making you some tea,” said Leila Fox. “I think you’ll need some. I certainly do.”