AFTER TALKING to Paul Warner and Albert Moffat, both Annie and Gerry felt the need to get out of the station. It was late but another fine evening, and they crossed the cobbled market square where tourists browsed in the gift-shop windows or sat in the little tearooms and coffeehouses looking out of the windows. They took a shortcut to the terraced river garden down a steep winding lane with high walls and came out by the falls. There had been so little rain lately that the Swain was not much more than a trickle of water the color of pale ale, with hardly a touch of froth. Some days, after heavy rains, the water that had drained into it from deeper in the dale flowed over in a noisy cataract, drowning out all other sounds and soaking anyone nearby in spray. Today, they could hear the birds, and they decided to sit in the open air pub by the river. It was Friday, after all, and things were more or less under control. They found a table that afforded them a little distance and privacy from the rest of the customers and Annie went inside to get the drinks.

“Christ, what a day,” she said, plonking a pint of Black Sheep bitter in front of her and a Campari and soda in front of Gerry, who was a Campari-and-soda kind of girl. She then sat down and put her feet up on one of the other chairs, hoping none of the bar staff would see and tell her off.

Gerry held up her glass to clink. “Worth it, though. Cheers.”

“Cheers. I don’t know about that. There’s not a lot we can do right now except leave Stefan and the rest to do their work. I don’t know about you, but after this pint, I’m off home for some shut-eye. Maybe when I wake up, Jazz will have the DNA organized and we’ll know where we are.”

“I doubt I’ll sleep much,” said Gerry, “but home sounds nice.”

“So what do you reckon?”

“There are a few things that interest me,” said Gerry, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and leaning forward. “First off, ever since I talked to Jade I’ve been trying to imagine what Mimosa was like. It’s not easy to put a picture together.”

“Nothing I’ve heard convinces me she had any more brains than a feral cat. I’m not trying to make any excuses for what happened, but she was out for what she could get, she sounds manipulative and she was a druggie. As for brains, who knows?”

“But she was vulnerable, open to being manipulated by Sunny and his gang.”

“True enough. But remember what Jade told you on the recording. Mimosa was queen bee, or whatever they called her. She got paid for luring girls in.”

“But they made her do it.”