‘Well, I think you did the right thing. I don’t believe you would have been happy still owning those parlours, you know. Anyway, we start the blood testing in a couple of days and then we should start to get a result; if nothing else we can eliminate the large part of the male community, and that can only make our job easier.’

‘Do you really think the blood testing will achieve something?’

Kate nodded. ‘Yes, I do.’

Patrick sipped his coffee and then smiled back at her. He hoped so because he was footing the bill, but he would spend every penny of his considerable fortune to catch the man responsible for his daughter’s death. It made no difference who got him first, himself or the police, because no matter where they locked him up, Patrick knew he could get to him. In fact, he had more chance of getting to him once he was in prison. There was more than one old lag who owed him a favour.

He did not say any of this to Kate though. Even though they were now real lovers, admitting their involvement, he saw no reason to disillusion her about his motives in helping to find the man they were after. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.

All he wanted was a name, and he would do the rest. If it lay with him Katie would never know what he had planned.

A little while later, under the shower with her, he felt a twinge of guilt at keeping her in the dark. But it soon disappeared. Knowing Kate, she would fight for the man’s right to a trial by jury, lecture on his rights as a human being. He admired her so much. He smiled to himself.

‘What are you laughing at?’

‘You.’ His voice was jocular.

‘Me!’

She looked outraged so he kissed her. Some things were better left unsaid.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lizzy was packing her small case. She placed her bright green Kermit the frog slippers in last and pushed the lid down to fasten it. Her long hair was loose and trailed into her eyes. She pushed it from her face impatiently.

There, she’d done it! Picking up the case she placed it on the floor by her bed and, going to the coffee corner, made herself a large mug. She sat at the table sipping it.

Her two weeks in the hospital had been a turning point in her life. Every time she thought of cutting her wrists she felt a flush of humiliation. How could she have done that, not only to herself but to her mother and her grandmother? It was a last dramatic act, as if she was saying,

‘Well, you know everything else about me, I might as well go out with a bang, not a whimper. Lay a bit of extra guilt on you all.’