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was going to hear from his wife’s lips and it wasn’t an admission of murder.
    He wasn’t even allowed to question her. He had to leave that to Jen. Of all the people in the station she was the one to grill his wife on why she was at another man’s house in the middle of the night.
    Matt knew why, he didn’t need to be a genius or even a detective to work it out. Soon, so would everyone else in the station. Most already did. He kept getting sympathy glances from colleagues. He paced the corridor, waiting. Jen came out. She didn’t want to look him in the eye; he couldn’t blame her for that.
    ‘She said she was sleeping with him.’ Jen said to her shoes.
    ‘Right.’ Was all he managed to reply.
    ‘They had a fight. She left...’
    ‘What time?’
    Jen did look up then, perhaps surprised at his fake matter of fact tone and controlled demeanor. ‘Why?’
    He gave her a look that reminded her that he was the senior officer and had the right to ask even though it was his wife sat inside the room.
    ‘Just after midnight, which is verified by the neighbour’s camera,’ she said.
    ‘So we need a time of death then.’ He replied calmly, but silently wondering what his wife was doing between leaving Brian Chards house and turning up in tears at home a couple of hours later. He was confident that she would have a good explanation, well fairly confident.
    ‘Should have it soon, Gov.’ she said. She fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘We’ll have to keep her in for a bit, and we ought to search the house...’ her voice trailed off and she studied her shoes again.
    It was a novelty to see her so awkward and uncomfortable. In other circumstances he might have taken some perverse enjoyment from it.
    ‘In case she has a stash of lipsticks and a gun in her knickers drawer?’ He couldn’t quite keep the bitter bite from his voice. Obviously, he knew she was only doing her job, and it must pretty difficult for her as well. Even so, he felt unreasonable hostility towards her and for the first time he had a glimmer of understanding for all the suspects that had been angry and uncooperative. It was a disturbing feeling to be accused.
    ‘I’ll organise a search warrant.’
    ‘No need.’ He said, relenting. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his house keys. ‘Be my guest,’ he handed them over and then left the station. Was he afraid that they might find something? Of course not, he told himself firmly. But he had to admit he was a tiny bit worried. He couldn’t shake the memory of the night he had the gun pointed at him. If it was real and not some drug, drink induced nightmare, then it had been Avril’s face looking into his own.

    Liz was sat on the damp grass between two grave stones. Freshly laid flowers rested on each. Slowly she got up and walked back towards her car. Dawn was waiting patiently for her.
    ‘Thornton’s?’ Dawn said. ‘To hell with the diet, today we need chocolate.’
    Liz drove in silence. She parked the car and they both climbed out and headed up the High Street. Inside the Chocolate shop, Liz found a free table and Dawn went to the counter to make the order. The shop was busy, it hadn’t been open very long and with the recession biting hard Liz feared it might not survive.
    Dawn put two glass mugs down on the table along with two chocolates.
    ‘What is that?’ Liz said pointing to the overflowing mug.
    ‘Hot choc with everything.’
    Liz scooped up a spoonful of cream and marshmallows and found herself smiling.
    ‘See, it's magical stuff.’ Dawn said pleased.
    The smile was fleeting. ‘It’s been two years,’ Liz said.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘I miss him.’
    ‘Of course you do, but it is time to move on. I know why you married him; I know it was the right thing to do. But seriously Liz don’t you ever wish you could find that kind of love and passion for yourself?’
    Liz wasn’t upset or offended, just sad, ‘well you’re living proof that love hurts.’
    Dawn pulled a face.