“He’s Detective Inspector A. L. Howard. I’ve got a card somewhere. He’s spoken to Clara, of course, and he saw Annie in hospital. He said a woman DS needed to ask some questions before Annie went under the anaesthetic, I suppose in case she died. She was too weak to say more than a few words, but apparently they were important.”

He said, “Andy Howard is a good detective with a sound team. This isn’t a case which can be solved by anything but conscientious police work, much of it laborious plodding routine. But they’ll get there.”

“Clara didn’t find him sympathetic, not really. I suppose it was because he wasn’t you. And the woman sergeant—Clara almost hit her. She asked whether Annie had recently had sex with a man before she was raped.”

“Emma, that was a question she had to ask. It could mean that they may have DNA, and if they have, that’s a huge advantage. But I can’t take over another officer’s investigation—apart from the fact that I’m in the middle of one myself—and it wouldn’t help solve the rape even if I could. At this stage it could even hinder it. I’m sorry I can’t go back with you to try to explain to Clara.”

She said sadly, “Oh, I expect she’ll understand eventually. All she wants now is someone she can trust, not strangers. I suppose I did know what you’d say, and I should have been able to explain it to her myself. I’m sorry I came. It was a wrong decision.”

She had got to her feet, and, rising, he came towards her. He said, “I can’t be sorry for any decision you make which brings you to me.”

And now she was in his arms and shaking with the force of her weeping. The face that was pressed against his was wet with tears. He held her without speaking until she relaxed, then said, “My darling, must you go back tonight? It’s a long drive. I can sleep perfectly well in this chair.”

As he had once before, he remembered, at St. Anselm’s College, after they had first met. She had been staying next door, but after the murder he had settled himself in an armchair in his sitting room so that she could feel safe in his bed while she tried to sleep. He wondered if she too was remembering.

She said, “I’ll drive carefully. We’re getting married in five months. I’m not going to risk killing myself before then.”

“Whose is the Jaguar?”