Chapters (67)
- Cover Page
- Title Page
- Author’s Note
- BOOK ONE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- BOOK TWO
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- BOOK THREE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- BOOK FOUR
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- BOOK FIVE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- A Note About the Author
- Also by P. D. James
- Copyright
Kate was impatient. “It had to be now. She wasn’t planning to return. She was killed because she was here in the Manor and relatively helpless. It’s just a question of whether the murderer took advantage of that fortunate fact or actually connived to ensure that Gradwyn chose not only this particular surgeon, but the Manor instead of a bed in London, which on the face of it would have been more convenient for her. London was her city. Her life was London-based. Why here? And that leads us on to why her so-called friend Robin Boyton booked in at the same time. We haven’t interviewed him yet, but he’s certainly got some questions to answer. What exactly is their relationship? And then there’s his urgent message on Gradwyn’s mobile. He was obviously pretty desperate to see her. He seemed genuinely upset at her death, but how much of that was play-acting? He’s a cousin of the Westhalls, and apparently he stays at the visitors’ cottage fairly regularly. He could have got access to keys and had them copied on one of his previous visits. Or he may have been given them by Rhoda Gradwyn. She could have deliberately taken the keys home with her on her first visit with the intention of having them copied. And how do we know he didn’t get access to the Manor earlier that day and hide himself in the suite at the end of the patients’ corridor? We know from the scrap of latex that Noctis was there. It could have been before as well as after the murder. Who was likely to look in there?”
Benton said, “Whoever killed her, I doubt whether she’ll be much missed, here or anywhere. She seems to have caused a lot of damage in her lifetime. The archetypical investigative journalist—get your exclusive story, take the cash, never mind the pain.”
Dalgliesh said, “Our job is to decide who killed her, not to make moral judgements. Don’t go down that path, Sergeant.”
Benton said, “But don’t we always make moral judgements, sir, even if we don’t voice them? Isn’t it important to know as much as we can about the victim, good or ill? People die because of who they are and what they are. Isn’t that part of the evidence? I’d feel differently about the death of a child, a young person, the innocent.”
Dalgliesh said, “Innocent? So you feel confident to make the distinction between the victims who deserve death and those who don’t? You haven’t yet been part of an investigation into the murder of a child, have you?”
“No, sir.” Benton thought, You knew that already, you didn’t need to ask.