Paula raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a fair question, DC Waterhouse. We’re still discussing the terms and conditions for my telling you. Don’t jump the gun. I’ll ask again: can you promise me that you won’t tell Hannah what I tell you?”

“No. Hannah’s Damon’s wife. I think she’s got the right to understand why her husband was murdered.”

“Very noble,” said Paula. “There’s only one snag: what I know would crush Hannah in a way that’s impossible to convey without spoilers. There are some injuries—psychological injuries—that no one could survive. This would be one, believe me. You don’t care about Hannah. I do. And what I know would lay waste to her. Beyond repair.”

“You care about Hannah Blundy? I didn’t realize you knew her.”

“She was a good wife to Damon—loyal and loving. He loved her. So, for his sake as well as for hers, I won’t do that to her, not even to help you solve your case. Damon would rather his murderer went unpunished than have Hannah destroyed.”

Was this the same Paula Riddiough who, only a few minutes ago, had portrayed Damon Blundy as her enemy? Simon didn’t like the way his brain was doing three-hundred-and-sixty-degree turns inside his head. He felt as if he wasn’t in control, and he hated that feeling more than anything. “You know Damon well enough to make that claim, and yet you weren’t having an affair with him?”

Paula rolled her eyes. “Oh, you can do better than that. Can’t you? Don’t you know anyone well that you’re not having an affair with? Your mother, your colleagues, your best friend?”

“Don’t you think Hannah might want to know the truth, however painful it is?”

“If she would, she’s a fool.”

“You need to tell me what you know,” Simon said coldly. “You might only care about what Damon would have wanted, but I care about catching a murderer.”

“I understand that, and it’s why I made you the offer I made,” said Paula. “Give me your word that you won’t tell Hannah and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Never would dishonesty be more justified, Simon thought. “All right,” he lied.

Paula snorted. “Well, that was unconvincing,” she said. “And we seem to have reached stalemate, or checkmate, or whatever you’d prefer to call it. I can see only one possible way out.”

Simon waited.

Paula pressed her index finger against the middle of her top lip. Thinking. Then she said, “If it were to turn out that Hannah had killed Damon, everything I’ve said about not wanting to hurt her would leap out of the window.”

“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical? Given what you said before about good men doing evil things to evil men and, in doing so, becoming evil themselves?”