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there any way of finding exactly where your husband spent the evening? I’m sorry to keep on, but it’s important.’
    ‘I suppose Joyce might know,’ she said.
    ‘Joyce?’ said Mahoney.
    ‘Monty’s secretary. Assistant. She’s at home as far as I know. But she’s as upset as the rest of us. She’s been with Monty for years…’ said Sharon, her voice trailing away.
    Then Margaret remembered the jacket, wallet and phone that the uniformed sergeant had brought round the previous day. ‘There were some things of Monty’s that were recovered from the car. I’ve got them upstairs.’
    ‘I know,’ said Mahoney. ‘I wonder if I could see them.’
    ‘You didn’t say,’ said Sharon to her sister.
    ‘I meant to,’ said Margaret. ‘I was going to tell you today. I just didn’t want to upset you any more.’
    ‘As if I could be,’ said Sharon.
    ‘I’ll get them,’ said Margaret.
    ‘Shall I come with you?’ asked Mahoney.
    ‘No need. I won’t be a minute.’ She was gone before he could argue.
    She ran up the stairs and collected the wallet from the drawer where she’d stashed it. She went through it fast. Cash, credit cards, a family photo of Sharon and the children , a couple of receipts, but nothing from the day he’d died. She stuffed everything back into the wallet and found the jacket in the wardrobe. It was empty except for one card tucked into the breast pocket. It was for the Crown Hotel, Lovedean, Hampshire and on the back was a mobile number scribbled in blue ink. She shoved it in her pocket and went back downstairs. At the sight of the familiar jacket Sharon started to cry. ‘Sorry, love,’ said Margaret, touching her on the shoulder, tenderly.
    Mahoney took the jacket, the wallet and the phone. ‘Can I search these?’ he asked.
    Sharon nodded.
    He went though the pockets and the wallet carefully. ‘Nothing here. I’ll take the phone with me if I may,’ he said. ‘I’ll have one of our technical blokes go through it, retrieve any information that may be germane, and get it back to you.’
    ‘Germane?’ said Margaret, her eyebrow raised,
    He nodded, ignoring her sarcasm.
    ‘So, is that all?’ she said.
    ‘For now. But I would like the number for Mr Smith’s assistant.’
    Sharon reeled it off, and he made a note in his book.
    ‘Will you be there tomorrow? At the court I mean?’ asked Margaret.
    ‘I will,’ said Mahoney, standing up to leave.
    ‘We’ll see you then, then. I think you’d better go now. Will you telephone if you find anything out today?’
    ‘Of course.’
    She showed him to the front door, and then went back to Sharon and hugged her tightly. She could only imagine what Mahoney’s information would have done to her sister.

19
     
     
     
    ‘We need to talk,’ Margaret said to Sharon.
    ‘I can’t. Not now. I’m all confused. Monty was a good man. Who would do such a thing? Who would hurt our family like this?’ her sister wailed.
    ‘I know he was, love. And that’s why it’s so important we find out what happened.’ said Margaret.
    ‘Leave that to the police.’
    ‘I am police. Well, you know what I mean.’
    ‘No Mags. You’ll get into trouble.’
    ‘I already am, sis.’
    ‘This is tiring me out, I can’t think straight. I’m going upstairs to the kids. Try and get some sleep. I think I better take a pill.’
    ‘Good idea,’ said Margaret.
    Sharon walked out of the room, shoulders slumped, and Margaret felt such a wave of pity as she looked at her inconsolable sister that she almost cried herself. Pull yourself together, she said to herself. No need for you to break down too. But instead she went out to her car and found a book of maps in the boot. Almost redundant now that the Boxster was fitted with Sat-Nav. She looked up Lovedean in the map and found it just off the A3 near the coast. She nodded, dumped the book back and went looking for Frankie and Roxie. ‘Sharon’s upstairs with the kids,’ she said. ‘The news has knocked