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indeed had probably seen her fiftieth birthday some while ago. Her nose, too, strong and aquiline as it was, had grooves running beneath it. While her lips, sensuous still, were surrounded by that faint tracery of lines which denotes the passing of the years.
    It shot through John’s head that this could only be Jasper’s mother-in-law, and before he could stop himself he found he was saying, ‘We are sorry to trouble you, Ma’am, but we wondered if we might have a word with your daughter.’
    The woman frowned. ‘My daughter?’
    ‘Yes,’ John blundered on. ‘For she is Mrs Harcross, is she not?’
    She shot him a glance of amused contempt, as if she were thoroughly used to this kind of remark. ‘No, I am Mrs Harcross.’
    ‘Mrs Jasper Harcross?’ asked the Runner incredulously, compounding John’s terrible gaffe.
    She cut across him impatiently. ‘What is all this? You said you came from the Public Office. Kindly state your business.’
    ‘May we step inside?’ asked Benjamin.
    ‘No you may not. How do I know who you are? You could be any kind of thief or blackguard.’
    ‘Then I am afraid you must prepare yourself to receive some bad news where you stand, Madam.’
    John found himself automatically opening his bag and slipping his hand in for salts as the voice of authority continued, ‘I am sorry to have to inform you that Mr Harcross met with an accident in the theatre last night.’
    Her skin went the colour of her hair but she did not falter otherwise. ‘An accident?’
    ‘Yes, Mrs Harcross. I am grieved to say that your husband died as a result of a misadventure on stage.’
    Now she clung to the door for support and John automatically ran to help her, administering the salts as he led her inside and sat her in a low chair. Close to Jasper’s widow like that, he could feel the grace with which she moved and sense the power of her charm. It occurred to him in that split second that she had once been an actress, and in that fact lay the key to the extraordinary relationship she and her husband shared.
    ‘This misadventure,’ she asked, in a low beautifully modulated voice which only served to confirm John’s theory. ‘What was it exactly?’
    The Apothecary decided to tell the truth, knowing that to protect her further was only going to delay and worsen the shock.
    ‘I’m afraid he was hanged during the gallows scene. The planking beneath his feet had been tampered with so that he fell through. The fall broke his neck.’
    Mrs Harcross’s hands flew to her throat. ‘Oh how terrible! Who could have done such a thing?’ Then her face changed and a worldly-wise expression crossed her features. ‘But how silly of me to ask. Jasper played with fire and has done so for years. One cannot treat women as if they are gloves to be picked up, used, and then tossed aside. I suppose one could say that retribution has finally caught up with him.’
    There was a noise from the doorway as Benjamin and Samuel, tired of waiting, entered the small hall. Mrs Harcross drew John’s head down so that she could murmur in his ear and, seeing her so closely, he was struck by the fact that she had once been a great beauty.
    ‘Listen to me,’ she said urgently. ‘Return here tomorrow and bring the Blind Beak with you – yes, I know all about him, I do visit town you know. I am prepared to tell him everything I can to help him find Jasper’s killer but I refuse to bare my soul in front of those two. Now I shall play faint so please to tend me.’ And Mrs Harcross swiftly rose from her chair, flung herself down on the sofa, and closed her eyes. John could not help it, his curved smile appeared before his expression grew serious and he went to fetch a damp cloth for his patient’s brow.
    ‘Is she fit to answer questions?’ asked Benjamin anxiously
    John shook his head, keeping his face very straight. ‘I’m afraid not. She is weak with shock and should rest for a while. I think it might be better if someone