A painting over the fireplace caught her eye. It had been a fortieth birthday present from her to Jack. It was only right that she sold it to pay off some of their debts. Luckily, the value of art tended to go up rather than down; she’d spent a ridiculous sum on it, almost twenty grand, she might get more for it now. It would go towards paying off more of their debts. She’d give the gallery a call in the morning.

Pushing slowly up from the sofa, she headed to the kitchen. She needed to eat something, but the fridge didn’t hold anything tempting. Taking out the milk, she checked the date, relieved to see it was still okay. A bowl of cornflakes was better than nothing. Sitting back on the sofa, she ate slowly, her ears pricking between crunchy mouthfuls for the sound of the front door opening. Surely, he would come home.

A flicker of anger shot through her worried mind. He knew that someone had tried to kill her, that she’d been hurt. He should be with her, taking care of her. The sympathetic look in Fanshawe’s eyes came back to her. Did he really think Jack was capable of an attempt on her life? Gambling was an addiction, had it become more important than her? Suddenly there was a smidgeon of doubt in her mind, and that worried her even more.

She meant what she’d said to the police. Jack, the man she had married, wasn’t capable of hurting her. But this man, this gambler willing to risk everything, she wasn’t sure about him. They, each of them, had very healthy life insurance; the death of either would pay out over a million.

There had been a fanatical light in Jack’s eye when he’d said he wanted to go back down to the casino in the Hyde. Was that all it was about now, his next gambling fix? She gulped, and a shiver ran down her spine. From desperately wanting Jack to come home, she was suddenly aware she was scared he would. Anger surged through her. Fanshawe had told her to stay indoors where she’d be safe – if he really suspected Jack was guilty, she wasn’t safe there at all. Her mind whirled. Did that mean he didn’t really suspect him?