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Chapters (41)
  1. Dedication
  2. Chapter One
  3. Chapter Two
  4. Chapter Three
  5. Chapter Four
  6. Chapter Five
  7. Chapter Six
  8. Chapter Seven
  9. Chapter Eight
  10. Chapter Nine
  11. Chapter Ten
  12. Chapter Eleven
  13. Chapter Twelve
  14. Chapter Thirteen
  15. Chapter Fourteen
  16. Chapter Fifteen
  17. Chapter Sixteen
  18. Chapter Seventeen
  19. Chapter Eighteen
  20. Chapter Nineteen
  21. Chapter Twenty
  22. Chapter Twenty-One
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  31. Chapter Thirty
  32. Chapter Thirty-One
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two
  34. Chapter Thirty-Three
  35. An Excerpt from House of Correction
  36. One
  37. Two
  38. About the Author
  39. Praise for Nicci French
  40. Also by Nicci French
  41. About the Publisher

“It might not have,” I said. “I pulled her out from where she was lying to see if she was still alive. I examined her. I wasn’t sure if there was something I ought to do to help.”

“So you moved the body!” said Ramsay. “And then you didn’t tell anybody. Our investigation to date has been based on a complete misunderstanding of the crime scene.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s why I decided I had to get in touch with you.”

“How kind,” he said. “I still don’t understand. Why did you leave the scene?”

“I was scared and confused. I thought the person who killed her might still be there. And maybe a part of me was wondering whether I was responsible for her death.”

“How?” asked Ramsay.

“Perhaps I’d been stirring things up. I’m the one person who didn’t believe that Milena and Greg’s death was an accident.”

“What on earth has that got to do with it?” said Ramsay.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Maybe we’re not clever enough to understand,” said Ramsay. “Could you explain why it’s so obvious?”

“My husband and Milena died in a car crash in circumstances that haven’t been explained.”

“That’s not true,” said DI Carter.

“And then Milena’s work partner is murdered. There must be a connection.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” said Ramsay. “I started off saying you ought to talk to a lawyer, but you really need a psychiatrist.”

“I’m seeing one, as a sort of grief counseling.”

“I’m surprised he lets you walk the streets.”

“She.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“I haven’t told her the details of all of this.”

Ramsay threw his hands up in exasperation. “What’s the point of a psychiatrist if you’re not telling her the truth? And, furthermore, if you’re lying to your own doctor, why the hell should I believe you’re not lying to us now?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a lie, would it?” I said. “I don’t come out of it very well.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said Ramsay. “Quite a few coppers would be happy enough to charge you immediately but you’d get off with an insanity plea—deranged widow runs amok.”

“You forget,” I said. “I don’t care.”

“Your not caring is a big part of the problem.”

“What I mean is that I don’t care what happens to me.”