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.He took them to the Imperial War Museum, and when they got back, Lydia came up and collected George as well, so I could practise.They’re having hot chocolate and watching Doctor Who.’‘Sounds like heaven.’‘Good day?’ she asked.He examined the tone of her voice from several angles.‘Do you want me to go down as well and leave you be?’She looked grateful.‘Another half hour.Then we can all have supper together.’He kissed her cheek.‘It’s yours,’ he said.EIGHTHappy as KingsAs soon as he woke, he was aware it wasn’t just the ordinary quiet of Sunday.There was a quality to the silence that he knew of old.He got out of bed and crept shivering to the window, pulled aside the curtain, and found the world transformed.He stared at the all-enveloping white with the usual mixture of pleasure and dismay.Everyday things redecorated were just so pretty – the black-and-white theme so elegant, so classy – but with it came the knowledge of mess, delay, inconvenience and the atavistic memory of danger and death.But for now, he would allow himself to enjoy it.As he stared, a fox came over the fence from next door and trotted across the lawn, lifting its feet high at every step, clearly puzzled by the phenomenon.It went over the opposite fence, leaving neat footprints and a trail between them from its brush.He let the curtain fall and hopped back to bed, shivering.He’d have liked to fold himself into Joanna, the way he always had in the past, in the time Before the Miscarriage, but she seemed to be sleeping quietly and he didn’t want to wake her.He lay still until the bed-warmth unlocked his limbs, and then drifted back to sleep for a pleasant hour before the television went on downstairs and shortly afterwards the sound of bickering roused him to go and do his parental duty.By the time he drove in to work the main roads had been worn clear by passing tyres, though the Sunday pavements were still unblemished, and the roofs and gardens were flaunting their make-over.The sky had cleared and the sun was doing its bit, sparkling on things that didn’t usually sparkle, like car lots and light-industrial units, covering up man’s careless unloveliness.They had had a big family breakfast – Dad and Lydia had come upstairs for it – and he had talked to his children.He was well-fed and nurtured, and Joanna had been practising last night, so all was well – or at least better – with the world.He felt more cheerful this morning – more hopeful about the case.Atmospheric pressure, he told himself.It affected one’s mood more than most people realized.But it didn’t alter the basic fact that today he felt as though he might win.Mackay had been coordinating the reports from the ground and the phone-ins.‘We got a few possibles so far,’ he said.‘Two of a man coming out of the house.One says “some time after two” and the other says “about twenty past”, so split the difference and they’re probably the same sighting.’The inexactitude of public witnesses was legendary.But Slider said, ‘If Lavender wasn’t the murderer, we may be talking about quite small time differences, so it doesn’t do to assume.’Mackay nodded.‘All right.But they both say a tall man in a dark overcoat came out of the house.The later one, the two twenty one, says he was wearing a hat, a trilby, either brown or black, and carrying a briefcase under his arm.Says he’s gone to the boot of a car parked outside.Seemed to be unlocking the boot.Then the witness has gone past so he doesn’t see any more.The other one, the earlier one, doesn’t mention a hat or a briefcase, just got the impression of a tall man coming out of the house.But she wasn’t really looking, and she’s not even sure it was the same house.’‘Did she see him going to the car?’‘No, guv.She was texting as she walked so she didn’t look over there again.’‘Either of them get a look at his face?’‘They say not,’ said Mackay, aware these were sub-standard offerings.‘Anything else?’‘Well, we’ve got another man in a hat going into the house.That witness says about twenty to two.Middle height, dark overcoat, didn’t get a look at his face.’‘What sort of hat?’‘He didn’t know the name; he said the sort posh blokes wear at the races, so it sounds like a trilby.No briefcase.No mention of the car.Says when he turned into the street the bloke was walking ahead of him, then turned into the house.Which looks as though, if he had a car, he must have parked it some way off.Or come on the tube, or a bus – or a taxi, maybe, and got dropped at the end of the road.’‘All possibilities,’ Slider said.But it was all frustratingly vague.All three could be Lavender; they could be two different, or three different people; or they could be nothing to do with it, and it was a different house altogether.‘All right,’ he said, ‘have another go at them.More description.And try and pin them down a bit more on time.Ask them to come in, if you like – it sometimes concentrates their minds when they realize it’s important.And have the others keep going.If there are three witnesses there must be more.’‘Right, guv.’‘Nothing from the other residents?’‘Nothing so far.Most of them are out at work, weekdays.And people don’t stand looking out of their windows much.’Slider nodded.‘And there are no street cameras down there, more’s the pity, so we can’t check the cars in and out.But put out an enquiry to the taxi firms, for anyone dropped in or near the street between twelve thirty and two thirty.’‘Yeah, guv, I’m on it,’ said Mackay.He left, and Slider thought a moment, then called Swilley in.‘Have you an idea yet about the state of Lavender’s personal finances?’‘It’s hard to say, boss,’ said Swilley.‘It’s all so tangled up with the business [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]