Paula sat forward in her chair. “All right, here’s something that might help you. If Hannah didn’t kill him, I think I might know who did.”

“Who?”

“A woman called Nicki Clements. She was obsessed with Damon—head over heels, even though she’d never met him. Whenever he wrote a column or a blog post, she commented. Each of her comments was a long, passionate hymn of praise to the wondrous Damon Blundy.”

“Did she praise him when he said unpleasant things about you?” asked Simon.

“Oh yes, all the time. Whatever he wrote, Nicki Clements just happened to share his view, and launched into a rant against his opponent. Usually quite effectively, it has to be said. She’s clearly a bright woman. I didn’t much like it when the opponent was me. Most of the time—when Damon’s target was infant male circumcision, or Barack Obama, or the burka—most of the time I agreed with every word she said.”

“And, therefore, with every word Damon Blundy said?”

“Well . . . yes, I suppose so,” Paula admitted grudgingly. “As long as it wasn’t anti-me, or political. Damon said some sensible things, despite his determination to be ridiculous whenever possible.”

“Barack Obama?” said Simon. “That sounds political.”

“I meant domestic political—Labour-versus-Tory stuff. I’m not a fan of the terror tactics used in America’s never-ending war on terror. Damon thought Obama was a hypocrite: trying to look like a good guy while acting like a bad guy. Cardinal sin, that, in Damon’s book.”

“You used the expression ‘head over heels’ to describe Nicki Clements,” said Simon. “That phrase refers to romantic love.”

Paula laughed. “Er . . . well, yes, obviously. I think it’s a fairly well-known expression.”

“How do you know Nicki Clements had romantic feelings for Damon? Couldn’t she have been an ardent supporter of his writing and his opinions, without there being any more to it?”

“Trust me, she was in love with him,” Paula said.

Offhand, Simon couldn’t think of many people he’d met that he’d trusted less. “How do you know? Is there any proof of that?”

“Read her comments!”

“I have. She was undeniably a fan of Blundy, but I’ve read nothing that suggests love.”

“Oh, come on! The protective tone, the hurt when people misjudge him . . .”

“Protectiveness can take a platonic form,” said Simon. “People want to protect friends as well as . . . Don’t they?”

“She was in love with him,” Paula said flatly. “I can’t believe you can’t see it.”

“I can’t see it, no,” said Simon, feeling at last that he was on firmer ground. “But I believe that you can.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Simon looked pointedly at the clock on the wall. Tick, tick, tick . . .

It was the perfect moment to end the interview.