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didn’t want to let me in without a membership card, then Robbie Peterson – who was on the stage at the time – told him to buy me a drink. Well, he was speakin’ into the microphone, so most of the punters turned round to see who he was talkin’ to.”
    â€œNot good,” Dowd repeated, signalling the steward for another round of drinks. “I’ve come too far and taken too many risks to have this sort of cloud hangin’ over me.”
    Phil nodded. “So what do you intend to do about it, Mr Dowd?”
    Dowd thought for a moment. “Get onto one of the coppers who belong to my lodge,” he said finally. “DI Roberts is probably your best bet. Ask him to find out what he can about this Chief Inspector Woodend feller.”

Five
    J enny Clough sat with her hands folded demurely on top of her pinafore, almost like a nun in quiet contemplation. She was a pretty woman, Woodend thought. Not pretty like her sister was pretty. Not pretty so she’d turn every head in the street. Hers was a prettiness it would be good to come home to after a hard day at work – a prettiness that offered a great deal of consolation for the right man.
    â€œI expect you’ve heard some quite horrible things about my dad,” she said across the desk.
    â€œNow why would you think that?” Woodend asked.
    Jenny laughed bitterly. “Because you’ve already spoken to my mum and sister. Why else?”
    â€œWhy don’t you tell me how you saw him?” Woodend suggested.
    â€œHe wasn’t perfect – nobody ever is – but he always tried to do his best for his family.”
    â€œLike sendin’ your sister Annabel to an expensive boardin’ school?”
    Jenny nodded. “That’s right. He wanted her to get the best education money could buy.”
    That was not how Annie Peterson saw it, Woodend thought. As far as she was concerned, Robbie had merely been using her as a ladder to climb out of the gutter. “Why didn’t he send you to private school as well?” he asked.
    â€œHe told me recently that he would have done if he’d had the money at the time.”
    There was something evasive in her answer, Woodend thought – something which didn’t ring quite true in her words.
    â€œDid you believe him?” he asked.
    Jenny Clough shook her head again. “No.”
    â€œSo what was the real reason?”
    â€œHe couldn’t bear the thought of me being away from home.”
    â€œBut he didn’t mind Annabel goin’?”
    â€œAll parents have their favourites among their children,” Jenny said, adopting a fiercely defensive tone. “They shouldn’t – but they do. Annie’s always been Mum’s favourite. I was always Dad’s. But that doesn’t mean that he didn’t treat her right. She could have had anythin’ she wanted. She could have gone to university. And what did she do instead?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Woodend said. “You tell me.”
    â€œShe did everythin’ she could to humiliate him and embarrass him. How could he ever expect to get on in Swann’s Lake when his own daughter behaves like a common tart?”
    â€œBehaves? Or merely dresses?” Woodend asked.
    â€œBehaves!” Jenny answered emphatically. “The men she knocks around with might drive sports cars and wear expensive clothes, but they’re all still only after one thing – and she gives it to them. I’ve seen her.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œThere’s a copse of trees just beyond the caravan site,” Jenny said. “Sutton’s Copse, they call it round here. I don’t know why. Anyway, a lot of courtin’ couples go there. An’ couples that are . . . well, you know.”
    â€œHavin’ a bit on the side?”
    â€œThat’s right. Well, after Annabel an’ her latest feller had finished laughin’ at Dad,