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‘You’ll be fine, Grace. Just remember, when Dad snorts, only hot air comes out, no flames.’

‘That’s easy for you to say from a safe distance.’

‘And in any case, you’ll have Mum on your side.’

‘Two against one will make it a close-run thing. Three might have tipped the balance in my favour.’

‘I’ll be there in spirit,’ said William, before he wished her luck and put the phone down. He was just about to leave the room when he spotted a row of postcards of the Hong Kong skyline displayed on the mantelpiece. The policeman in him wanted to look on the other side, but he resisted the temptation. He returned to the kitchen to find Beth doing the washing up.

‘Jez usually does the drying.’

‘Subtle,’ said William, picking up a tea towel. ‘When we’re finished, I’ll go home, put on a tracksuit and join you in the park.’

‘No need. You’ll find everything you want in Jez’s room.’

‘I’ve always wondered what a ménage à trois would be like.’

A run in the park, followed by My Beautiful Laundrette, and then a Pizza Margherita – half each – before returning to Beth’s flat and disappearing under the blankets, to end an idyllic weekend.

When William woke the following morning, he had to untangle himself before he could check his watch.

‘Help!’ he said as he leapt out of bed and charged into the bathroom. This was one meeting he couldn’t afford to be late for. It would start at nine, with or without him.

Once he returned to the bedroom, he threw on his clothes and kissed a half-awake Beth.

‘Hoping to escape before I woke, were you?’

‘I have to go back to my place and get changed. I can’t afford to be late again.’

Beth sat up and stretched her arms. ‘Now you’ve had your way with me, Detective Constable Warwick, will I ever see you again?’ She sighed and draped a languishing arm across her forehead.

‘I could come back straight after work if that’s OK. In which case, I’d be with you around seven.’

‘Suits me, then we can all have supper together. Jez can do the cooking, and you can do the washing up.’

William sat on the bed and held her in his arms. ‘And what will you do?’

‘Read Proust.’

‘By the way,’ said William, as he rose to leave, ‘my sister can’t wait to meet you.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s quite complicated, but I’ll reveal all this evening.’

‘Make sure you find my painting, DC Warwick!’ were the last words William heard before he closed the bedroom door.

As he stepped out into the street William spotted a No. 22 bus approaching the stop, and just managed to leap on board as it

pulled away.

‘Bugger,’ he said.

‘I beg your pardon, young man,’ said the conductor. ‘There’s no need for that sort of language on my bus.’

‘Sorry. I forgot to tell my girlfriend that I’m going to Barnstaple today.’

‘Then you’re definitely on the wrong bus.’


Tags: Jeffrey Archer Detective William Warwick Mystery