It went further downhill once they rounded up Billy Street’s bandmates. They were fairly new additions to the Blasphemers; the original members had fallen to the wayside due to excessive alcohol and lack of gigs. None of the current trio held any enmity toward the lead singer. It was Billy’s band—they were just playing in it. With his passing, they were talking of forming a tribute group, but were unsure if it was a good idea because there was just one song to pay homage to.

The next dead end was Lisa Gosden. Jeffries had found trace evidence in the MG that Street had been with a woman the night he was killed and it didn’t take long for Grant’s team to run down the Gosden girl. She’d attended Billy’s swan song and reluctantly admitted to leaving the club with him that night.

Grant found it hard to believe she could have wrapped an E string around the musician’s neck as well as dispatched an Oxford don and sculptor all within a week. She fumbled through the details of her rendezvous with Billy—expressing frustration at his lack of prowess as a lover (more information than Grant needed). And she hadn’t been aware of being watched by anyone in the MG or during her “walk of shame” out to Charles Street.

By Thursday night, when he headed up to Hampstead for his weekly dinner and chess match with Everett, Grant felt further astray than ever on the case. The Thursday dinners had started, at Everett’s insistence, at his brother’s house shortly after Allison’s passing. Grant appreciated Everett taking it upon himself to look after his older brother.

“I won’t have you wasting away,” Everett had told him the night of the wake. “I can’t tell you how many geezers at the university I’ve seen go belly up right after their loved ones passed. They just seem to give up on living.”

Everett said he would miss Allison as well. He’d actually known her longer than Grant. Everett had introduced them during his last year as a student at Oxford when he’d come home to Liverpool for the holidays. Everett and Allison had briefly gone out but her heart quickly went to Grant. She’d jokingly say she hadn’t felt smart enough for Everett, a brilliant budding theologian. This made Grant feel slightly inferior, to which Allison would say “Nonsense.” At least the two of them could talk about normal things and affairs of the heart.