“You think Flora knew something? From what I understand about Tony Servino, I think it very hard to know anything he couldn’t take care of without resorting to engineering a car accident.”

“What if it wasn’t all that clear? I mean, what if it was something she didn’t know she knew, wasn’t aware she knew, but which could come out later?”

Jury laughed slightly. “Mr. Flood, you’re getting further and further from the obvious explanation: a genuine accident. You really want this to be about Servino.”

“But it is, isn’t it?”

“Not really. It’s about motive: Did Flora really have a motive to shoot him? She was the one with the gun, remember. Not he. And the gun was one of yours.”

“There was motive, all right. He was very abusive.”

“That would have to be an awful lot of abuse to warrant someone using a gun. Anyway, he didn’t need to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems to me that Servino depended on his wits. How many times did you actually see him mistreating Flora?”

Frank Flood thought for an unproductive minute. “The thing is, you know what addicts, what alcoholics are like.” Frank turned his glass around in his hands.

Since he was now into his third whisky, Jury wondered if this was projection at work. “Actually, I don’t. It’s too complex.”

“Generally speaking.”

“That’s what I mean: there is no ‘general’ when it comes to addiction, although AA has to work with that concept or nobody would join.”

“Why do you defend him?”

“Because I want to know why you accuse him.”

“I’m not the only one,” said Frank. “There’s Eleanor Summerston for another.”

Jury wanted to laugh. There’s half London for the other. “But there’s also Gerald Summerston, from what I’ve heard. He liked Tony Servino.”

“Oh, Gerald.” Flood shrugged the man away.

“Why so dismissive?”

“Gerald Summerston liked people who broke things.”

“A good metaphor, if I understood how it applied to Summerston. To hear his wife talk, he was anything but an iconoclast.”

“Did Eleanor really know him?”

The question was rhetorical, since he was not really asking Jury.

Flood went on. “She certainly seemed not to know how much of an eye he had for other women.” He glanced at Jury.

“Was it common knowledge, then?”

“No, not at all. But I think sex was an obsession with him.” Frank looked at the box. “As chocolate is for me.”

Jury raised the box a little, set it down.

“Ah, yes. Manon’s. Only for Gerald, it wasn’t the chocolates; it was the chocolatier.”

Jury was surprised. “You’re talking about the woman found on Bryher?”

“Yes, of course. She had a shop in Paris, that shop.” He nodded toward the box. “I’ve been wondering why she came back here, now.”

“Did you know her at all, Mr. Flood?”