‘Were you surprised when Beth killed herself, Dr Craig?’

‘Yes. No. I’m not sure.’

He stood up and, pushing a pile of papers out of the way to make room for his coffee on top of one of the filing cabinets, started pacing the floor. He stopped abruptly and looked up at her.

‘Do you really think Neil Fuller is a happily married man?’

How could she answer that? She’d come here with every intention of being the one asking the questions, but now the boot appeared to be firmly on the other foot. ‘Yes. I think so. I haven’t seen anything to suggest he’s not.’

He stood in the middle of the room, staring at the carpet and nodding his head, apparently conducting some sort of internal monologue that she wasn’t privy to. ‘Hmm.’ Then all at once he looked up and said, ‘Frankly I’m not sure what Beth was or wasn’t capable of. I thought I knew her; I lived with her, I worked with her and yet I don’t think I ever understood her. And to be honest now I’m glad I didn’t.’

‘You can tell me it’s none of my business, but why?’

‘Because she never cared about anyone or anything except her bloody work. Her theories, her mad bloody ideas. She was always chasing the ultimate answer. Her work always came first. Do you have any idea how it feels to play second fiddle to someone who’s been dead for two thousand years?’ He shook his head. ‘Everybody had to support Beth, understand Beth. Beth the great bloody genius.’

He slumped down in a heap in the chair next to her, his head in his hands.

Clare asked softly, ‘And was she?’

He lifted his head out of his hands and stared at her. ‘Was she what?’

‘Was she a genius? Everyone talks about how single-minded she was, how dedicated. Even how inspiring.’

‘Pah! That’s got to be Fuller.’

She didn’t bother trying to deny it. ‘Look, I’m not here to defend Neil Fuller, or Beth Kinsella for that matter. And I don’t want to pry into your private life. I’m just a jobbing archaeologist who wants to do justice to the site I’m working on. But half of it has already been dug by Beth. So, what I really need to know is, was she really brilliant? You knew her better than anyone else. Do you think her work can be relied on?’

Pulling himself upright in his chair, he got up and moved to the other side of his desk. For what felt like several long minutes he stood motionless, staring out of the window onto the broad leafy street below.