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parents?’
    â€˜Yes, and Mamma was not best pleased at being pre-empted.’
    â€˜Another black mark, then. We’re building up quite a stockpile.’
    Rona said heatedly, ‘And we’ve done nothing to deserve any of them!’
    â€˜OK, sweetie, don’t let it get to you.’
    She drew a steadying breath. ‘Sorry.’
    â€˜Any more thoughts on this parent search?’
    â€˜I spoke to Barnie and he wasn’t too keen. He’s hedging his bets.’
    â€˜I’m not too keen either, in case it escaped your notice.’
    â€˜It’ll be all right, Max, honestly.’
    â€˜From which I deduce you’re going ahead?’
    â€˜I phoned Zara this evening and said I’ll give it six weeks. We’ll see how it goes.’
    â€˜Well, if you’re going to publicize it, for God’s sake only admit to searching for the father. I don’t want yet another hitherto undetected murderer coming after you.’
    She smiled bleakly. ‘I can’t say I do, either. Don’t worry, I’ll be discreet.’
    His sigh reached her down the phone. ‘I thought I was married to a biographer, not a private detective.’
    â€˜You are. And I promise, after this, I really will embark on another. My publishers are getting restive, for one thing, and I have some possibilities in mind.’
    The fact that murder had put paid to her last attempt at biography was not mentioned by either of them.
    The following morning, before she could find an excuse to delay, she phoned Catherine Bishop.
    â€˜I was wondering when it would be convenient to return the manifesto,’ she began brightly.
    â€˜Oh – there’s really no hurry. Keep it as long as you need it.’
    â€˜Actually, I don’t need it any more; I’ve made photocopies.’
    â€˜I see. Well, don’t make a special journey out here; I’m coming into town this morning to do some shopping. Could we meet for a coffee, say at the Gallery?’
    â€˜That would be fine, thanks.’
    â€˜Eleven o’clock?’
    â€˜I’ll be there.’
    Rona was thoughtful as she made her way up Fullers Walk towards Guild Street, Gus trotting at her side. She’d been wondering if there was any casual way she could introduce her father into the conversation, in order to gauge Catherine’s reactions. On reflection, though, it was an undertaking fraught with peril; if there was any sounding out to do, much better to pick on Pops; at least she knew where she was with him.
    The Gallery Café was approached up a wrought-iron staircase between two shopfronts on Guild Street, and led to a walkway above the pavement containing a few boutiques, an art shop, and the café itself, which straddled the corner of Guild Street and Fullers Walk, offering a choice of viewpoint from its window tables.
    Catherine was already seated at one of them as Rona and Gus walked in. Gus went straight to her, tail wagging, and accepted a pat before settling himself under the table, careful to avoid the stack of carrier bags propped against the wall.
    â€˜What a pleasure it is to see a well-trained dog!’ Catherine remarked, as she picked up the menu. ‘Now, I’ve decided to be wicked and indulge in a Danish pastry. Can I tempt you?’
    Rona smiled. ‘I don’t need much tempting.’
    â€˜Fine.’ She signalled the waitress and gave the order, checking Rona’s preference from the dozen or so types of coffee listed.
    â€˜I come up here for lunch sometimes,’ she confided as the waitress moved away, ‘and sit here unashamedly people watching. It’s fascinating.’
    â€˜Do you ever see anyone you know?’ Rona asked, remembering a shock sighting she’d once had from this very table.
    â€˜Not so far, but then I don’t know that many people here.’
    Rona took out the envelope containing the manifesto and passed it across the table.