“There’s little to tell you about the death of Rhoda Gradwyn. The simple explanation is that I killed her to avenge the death of a dear friend, Annabel Skelton, but simple explanations never tell the whole truth. Did I go to her room that night with the intention of killing her? I had, after all, done all I could to dissuade Chandler-Powell from admitting her to the Manor. Afterwards I thought not, that I meant only to terrify her, to tell her the truth about herself, to let her know that she had destroyed a young life and a great talent, and that if Annabel plagiarised about four pages of dialogue and description, the rest of the novel was uniquely and beautifully hers. And when I lifted my hand from her neck and knew that there would be no communication between us ever again, I felt a release, a liberation which was as much physical as mental. It seemed by this one act I had washed away all the guilt, frustration and regret of the past years. In one exhilarating moment it had all passed away. And I still feel some remnant of that release.

“I believe now that I went to her bedroom knowing that I meant to kill. Why else would I have worn those surgical gloves, which I later cut up in the bathroom of one of the empty suites? It was in that suite that I had hidden myself, leaving the Manor by the front door as usual, re-entering later at the back door with my key before Chandler-Powell locked up for the night, and taking the lift up to the patients’ floor. There was no real risk of discovery. Who would think of searching a vacant room for an intruder? Afterwards I went down by the lift expecting to have to unbolt the door, but the door wasn’t bolted. Sharon had left before me.