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.“We were right about the shop having Sunday staff.Just as well they did.One of them was Lizzie Duncan’s pupil back in the days she taught the infants.This lad wasn’t serving, just stocking the shelves, but he got a good view of everything.” Robin swung back in his chair, grinning happily.“It wasn’t Brian Duncan who came in at lunchtime to get those groceries.It was his wife.”“Back to Kinebridge?” Anderson already had his car keys ready in his hand.“Via Lindenshaw.I want to show Victor Reed that picture of Duncan.” The one the ever-resourceful Davis had run off Facebook.“See if he was at Narra—” A sharp rap on the door made Robin slam his chair back down again, nearly propelling him out of it.“Bloody hell! Come in.”Davis stuck her head round the door, smiling nervously and waving a piece of paper.Just to complicate this Gordian knot of a case, the phone records had arrived.Saturday, Oliver Narraway had rung—within a few minutes of each other—the Duncans, Victor Reed, the Bookhams, and the Lindenshaw newsagents.Robin thought he’d better laugh, or else he’d cry.Victor Reed didn’t appear surprised at the policemen’s reappearance on his doorstep, nor at the picture they thrust into his hand.He put on his glasses, studying it carefully.“No, I don’t think I’ve seen him here.Or anywhere.Not a memorable face, though.”“Maybe successful murderers are prone to slipping through people’s memories.Secret of their success.” Whoever was behind this pair of murders had managed to keep their motivation under the radar, too.No accusations, no snide little comments, apart from Narraway’s about Lizzie Duncan and that had led them.where, exactly? Narraway to his death, maybe.“You’re absolutely sure?”“I’d have told you if I’d remembered him.I wouldn’t obstruct you, Inspector.”“No.Sorry.” Robin changed tack.“I believe Narraway rang you, on Saturday?”“Oh yes.He wanted to talk about the implications of continuing with an interim head on the school budget.Hardly earth-shattering stuff.”“Odd that he rang you when he only lives next door.” Anderson, notebook in hand, was jotting down Reed’s answers with an intensity that suggested every word was vital.“Who knows—sorry, knew—the workings of Oliver’s mind?” Reed shrugged.“He’s done it before, rather than trot the fifty yards over here.”“Back to unlikely visitors.” Robin wasn’t sure he believed Reed’s answer—like the fact that Adam had to take the governor post over, it made no sense—but they’d no way of proving he was lying.“Did you see anybody visiting Narraway during the last few weeks who made you think twice?”“Like one of the applicants, you mean?”“That’s just what I mean.Claire Waites, for example.” Robin watched for a reaction, but Reed just seemed puzzled, rolling the name around on his tongue.“Claire Waites? Oh, yes.Her.I wouldn’t have thought she’d dare show her face around here.”“By which you mean.?”“Don’t you know? Then perhaps I shouldn’t tell you.” Reed looked down at Duncan’s picture again, avoiding eye contact.Robin thought there might just be a third murder—there, then.“I’m sick and tired of people arsing me about, pleading protocol, or throwing their toys out of the pram.We’re past the point of anything but a straight answer.We know about the spat with Marjorie when you interviewed before.We need the details.”“Oh.” Reed lowered his voice.“Don’t want the wife to hear.Confidential and all that.”“We could do this at the station, if you prefer?”“Good God, no.Hang on.” Reed shut the door connecting the lounge and hallway.“She, Claire Waites, had launched into accountability—the old ‘Caesar’s wife must be above suspicion’ thing.After which, Neil mentioned some cases in the newspaper about teachers drinking and being rowdy on holiday.He wanted her opinion on whether they should be setting an example off-site.”“Did he get it? Her opinion?” Anderson asked, no doubt thinking of ex-boyfriends and porn films.“Not before Oliver chipped in with some comment about the interference of the nanny state in everything.” Reed looked guiltily towards his neighbour’s house.“Shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but you said I wasn’t to pussyfoot.Actually, Ms
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