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it in the egg yolk. He didn’t factor in lunch, so had decided to make hay. It was on expenses after all.

Amanda came back with a large fruit salad and a bowl of yoghurt. She picked over the fruit with a fork. “There will be no transference at Snell’s house. He was killed with a bullet at long range.”

King shrugged. “I just think it should be contained, that’s all. I spoke to my boss this morning, and he thinks the same.”

She smiled. “I was sent here by the Home Secretary himself,” she said. “I think my chain reaches a few links higher than that of your boss.”

King continued to eat through his plate of food, ignoring her attempt to pull rank. He’d ignored Prime Ministers before now. They were long gone, but he was still here.

“Did you hear me?” she asked.

King nodded. “I heard.”

“Well?”

He shrugged. “It’s your career.”

“Meaning?”

“You’ll make or break on this. You’ll climb a few rungs higher, or you’ll plummet beyond recovery,” he said. He put down his cutlery and drank some tea. It was cold, so he topped up with more from the pot and a splash of milk. He stirred in a spoonful of sugar, watching her as he tapped the spoon on the rim of the cup. “This will be your biggest case. There will be little chance of you ever topping this. It will be looked at for years to come. If it isn’t thorough, if it isn’t perfect, then you will be a footnote in history. They will use you as a lesson in what not to do. You’ll be a training resource on that PHD of yours.”

She went to say something but thought better of it. She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “Okay,” she said. “I suppose it won’t hurt to keep the provincials out of it.”

“It never does.”

“I’ll phone and tell them that I will start the autopsy on the Jameson’s this afternoon, after I have finished Snell’s autopsy.”

“I’ve already done that,” King said.

She frowned. “You are presumptuous.”

He nodded. “I’m in charge of this investigation. Whether you like it or not, you’re working for me. So, you’ll work on the Jameson’s after you have worked on Snell, but only after we’ve taken another look at his house.”

“His house?”

“Yes. You can give me a lift, I have a problem with my car and the mobile service will fix it while I’m out.”

“Fine,” she said. “I don’t see what else can be gleaned from looking at his house again.”

“We’ll see.” King shrugged. “About last night…”

“Forget it,” she interrupted. “You were questioning my work, and it had been a long day. I should have said goodbye, but I also didn’t think it was appropriate for you to ask me to stay. You have a fiancé, Alex.”

“I offered you my spare bed for the night,” King snapped at her, annoyed she had turned his offer around on him. “Given your state, there was nothing wrong in that.”

“What state?” she asked incredulously. “I was tired, that’s all.”

King shook his head. He wasn’t going to drive the fact home like a nail in a coffin, but he hadn’t liked her slant on what or was not appropriate. He left it there, but decided he’d had enough breakfast. He put down his cutlery and picked up his cup and sat back, looked out at the sea view like she wasn’t there. She was in denial and she wouldn’t recover until she accepted it. He wasn’t a charity worker and he had more important things on his mind than her sobriety. He hadn’t heard from Caroline in a while, knew the procedure. She’d said she would call and she would when she had the opportunity. It didn’t stop him worrying though.

17

 

Cape Town, South Africa

It was a cool day, colder than she had anticipated, but certainly warmer than she had been used back in London, or Lyon in France, where she had been spending a great deal of time recently.

The light was incredible, reflecting off the boats in the mariner and the sea looked slick and glossy. Perhaps there was some fuel on the surface from the engines, but she liked to think it was from reflected from the tremendous sky of blue that seemed bigger somehow, bigger than she had ever seen. It was such a bright and cloudless day; the sky so azure it wouldn’t be hard to imagine seeing stars with a suitable pair of binoculars. She didn’t even know if that was possible, but it didn’t seem out of the question to her to try. She would like to see the night sky, witness the stars with such clarity, but doubted she would get the chance. It had been raining when she arrived late last night, and this was to be a flying visit, if she managed to get what she wanted, she could well be on a plane by early evening. At least she had no time difference to contend with. Sixteen-hours of flying, and her body clock was still ticking along just fine. Longitude travel was the way to go.

Caroline Darby threaded through a few men who were casting fishing rods into the marina. They were black and dressed shabbily. She got the impression they were not fishing recreationally, but more as a direct attempt to secure food. They certainly didn’t have vast tackle boxes or the latest equipment. She noticed one man was using a length of bamboo as a rod and a small empty plastic drinks bottle for a float. She noticed too that the boats had changed from expensive pleasure craft to wooden work boats as she had worked her way down the harbour breakwater. She had strayed far from the tourist area on her run. She slowed up, looked back at the town and decided to head

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