“No,” Paula said with confidence. “My point, or rather Damon’s point, was that there’s no such thing as a good person. There are only kind and unkind acts. Would it be unkind of me to stop caring about Hannah’s feelings if it turned out she’d murdered Damon? I’m not sure. I think it would be understandable. Unless you’d want to encourage me to protect a murderer from the law? Do you think Hannah did it?”

“I can’t discuss the investigation with you,” said Simon.

“Could she have done it? If she’s got a rock-solid alibi, there’s no harm in telling me, is there?”

“Everything relating to the investigation is confidential.”

“You’re about as flexible as a metal barrier, aren’t you? Still . . . if I had to guess, I’d say you do suspect Hannah. Me too.” Paula stared out of the window.

Simon had sat where she was sitting. He knew she could see nothing but the redbrick wall of the job center. “There are a few things I could charge you with, if you don’t tell me what you know,” he said.

She laughed. “You think I care about getting a criminal record? My parents would be devastated, but me? I’d be all over the papers again. The only columnist who thought me interesting enough to write about once I left politics is dead, remember? I do love the spotlight.”

“I think you loved Damon Blundy,” Simon said on impulse. “I think you’re devastated by his death, and trying very hard to hide it.”

Paula’s expression was sympathetic. “Then you think wrong. Any ideas yet about my horologically opposite appointment tomorrow?” She glanced up at the clock again. “Tick, tick, tick . . . No pressure.”

“Would Damon do the same for you, if the roles were reversed?” Simon asked. “If you’d been murdered, and he had information that would destroy Fergus, would he withhold it?”

“Excellent question. Yes, he would.”

Simon saw a shadow at the back of his mind, mouthing words. Trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t hear, or see clearly, or . . . No, it was gone. As so often, he could feel the presence of several pieces of a good idea, but he couldn’t put them together.

“What made you ask me that?” said Paula.

“I’m not sure.”

“Your subconscious is an intelligent guesser.” She smiled.

“It’s hard to know what to ask when you’re being told a combination of lies and truth,” Simon said. “I think you’re being deliberately inconsistent. You want me to catch whoever killed Damon. That means you want to help me. But not too much—because of the secret you still need to keep. It’s not only your affair with Damon Blundy, is it? That’s not what would destroy Hannah. It’s more than that.”