“Yes. I looked at my diary yesterday and worked it out. It was Wednesday, June fifth, about two o’clock. The bell rang; I answered the door. Nicki barged in and said she had to talk to me, it was an emergency, and I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, not even Lee. She was pretty hysterical. I think she thought it was big enough and serious enough to sweep aside my reservations about hiding things from my husband.”

“Did it?”

“No. The opposite. If it was something important, I was even more determined not to have to lie to Lee about it. I explained to Nicki that she’d have to find someone else to confide in and discuss her . . . problem with. I tried to be as sensitive as I could, but . . . she didn’t take it well. Things got a bit out of hand.”

“Did she become violent?” Gibbs asked.

“No, nothing like that. Just . . . nasty.”

“In what way?”

Melissa sighed. “She said that when I lost my heart to Lee, I really did lose my heart—altogether. I’m heartless, apparently, because I’m not willing to be drawn into her lies. Then . . . I don’t know, just a load of rambling stuff designed to mess with my head and manipulate me. She said she didn’t know who she was anymore, or if she could bear to be that person for much longer, but at least there was no danger, thank God, that she’d ever end up like me, and how overwhelmingly grateful she was for that . . . that kind of thing. I asked her to leave. She had one more go at persuading me: I was the only person who really knew her; I’d known her for years; only I could help her . . .” Melissa shuddered. “I just wanted her out of my house. I didn’t mention it to Lee because I couldn’t bear to think about it, once it was over.”

It’s called feeling guilty. With good reason.

Melissa frowned. “Lee’s right: I should have told him straightaway. He knows everything now. I’ve told him everything I know.”

“It sounds as if Nicki might have wanted your help with a problem she was having,” said Gibbs neutrally.

“I’m sure she did,” Melissa said with feeling, her face coloring. “I’m equally sure it was a problem entirely of her own making.”

“And you think she might have made herself a new problem on Monday, by killing Damon Blundy?”

“Lee thinks so. And I . . . Well, let’s just say with Nicki anything’s possible.”

“Where were you and Lee on Monday morning between eight thirty and ten thirty?” Gibbs asked her.