And maybe it was too good to be true. The reasons he had given for avoiding police involvement were not entirely convincing. Harding knew what Ray Trathen for one would say was the real explanation. Barney did not want Hayley’s belief that he had murdered Kerry to be examined in court-not to mention the newspapers-because she was right: he had murdered Kerry.

If that was true, Barney’s reluctance to see Hayley prosecuted was reinforced by guilt. He did not know how she had planned to frame him for Carol’s murder, of course. As far as he was concerned, she had only intended to do to him what he had done to her: take the life of a loved one. Maybe he saw the justice in that and had no wish to punish her for it-an interpretation that only rendered Whybrow’s calculation more impenetrable.

In the final analysis, it did not really matter. A peace offering was on the table. And Harding was to be its broker. Willingly or not.

“I’m asking a lot of you, I know,” said Whybrow, breaking the long, heavy silence. “But I wouldn’t if I thought you weren’t equal to the task.”

“Is that so?”

“You’ll do it?”

“I don’t appear to have much option.”

“I’m sorry you see it like that. Truth is, this is in everyone’s interests.”

Oddly, Harding felt that probably was the truth. He sighed. “There are leads… I could follow.”

“Good.”

“When would you want me to start?”

“As soon as possible.” Whybrow ejected the tape from the dashboard player and handed it to him. It was a cynical, mocking little gesture. There would be another copy. There would always be another copy. “There’s no time to be lost.”

Harding barely slept that night. In the small hours, just as he was finally slipping into unconsciousness, he was jolted fully awake by a realization that had long lain dormant in his mind. It was Whybrow’s account of Hayley Foxton’s life story as opposed to Hayley Winter’s, that had set his memory searching once more. Suddenly, sickeningly he knew where he had seen her before. He knew for a virtual certainty, though he could not render the certainty absolute without returning to England-and reopening a door he would have preferred to leave closed.

It was one more parcel of unwelcome knowledge for his overburdened mind. Mentally and physically weary, he set out on the drive to Monaco next morning hardly knowing what to expect from his encounter with Barney and Carol. So much had happened since their last meetings. So much that he had been unaware of had intruded into his life.

He assumed both of them would be waiting for him. Whybrow had said they would be expecting him at 10:30. As it was, Barney was alone when he arrived, prowling the terrace like a wounded bear, downcast and unshaven, his trousers and shirt so crumpled he might have slept in them.

“Carol’s still out for the count,” he explained, leading Harding into the lounge. “She took some pills to help her sleep. They packed a punch.”

“How’s she coping with… what happened?”

“Pretty well. She has a lot of inner strength. More than me, I sometimes think.” He gave an all-purpose shrug. “What can I tell you, Tim? Wednesday night isn’t an experience I’d want to repeat in a hurry.”

“It must have been awful.”

“Yeah. But more awful for Carol than me. When something like that happens, without warning, it… knocks you sideways.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you any warning. I never had the slightest inkling Hayley was planning anything of the kind.”

“Why would you? You didn’t know whose sister she was, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Want a coffee? I just made some.” Tozer picked up his mug from the glass-topped table and took a slurp. “Help yourself. You know where it is.”

The expedition to the kitchen gave Harding a minute or so to ponder the question of whether Carol’s no-show was down to sleeping pills or some evasion tactic she had devised. The question was still open when he returned to the lounge, coffee in hand. Tozer had lit a cigarette now and was slumped in one of the soft leather armchairs that faced the wide-windowed view of the office towers and apartment blocks of Monte Carlo, with a broad blue chunk of the Mediterranean shimmering beyond. Harding sat down next to him.

“I blame Humph as much as anyone,” Tozer growled. “He should have told me Uncle Gabriel had a housekeeper who was the spitting image of Kerry Foxton. Of course, he never actually met Kerry. But he must have seen her picture in the paper. Then again, he didn’t know she had a twin sister. Not an identical twin, but one close enough in looks… Well, maybe no one’s to blame. Except Hayley Foxton, that is. She put the fear of God into Carol.”

“But, in the end, she didn’t harm her.”

“No, thank Christ. But she planned to. Oh yes. She very much planned to. Even when Tony told me a couple of days ago who the housekeeper was, I never saw anything like this coming.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t tell me.”

“I would have done if I’d had the chance. But you dropped out of touch, remember? Even though, as it happened, I actually only had to call you up on your not-so-lost phone if I’d wanted to talk to you.” A suspicious glint had appeared in Tozer’s eye. “What was with all that?”

“It was lost. Stolen, I assumed. But it got handed back in at the Turk’s Head. A customer took it by mistake, apparently.”

“OK. But then you left Penzance, without letting me know where you were going.”

“Sorry. I got… sidetracked.”

“Sidetracked?”

“Hayley sent me off on a wild-goose chase to London, looking for the ring. She must have been playing for time at that stage. And she had an accomplice to help her do it. Ever heard of Ann Gashry?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Or Nathan Gashry?”

“No. Who are they?”

“Neighbours of the Foxtons in Dulwich. Well, Ann was, certainly. Nathan… I’m not so sure about.”

“But this woman… led you up the garden path at Hayley’s say-so?”

“Yes. Elaborately-and convincingly.”

“Then she might know where Hayley is. Hell, Hayley might have gone to ground with her.”

“It’s the first thing I’ll check.”

“Starting when?”

“Tonight. Tony’s booking me on the seven o’clock flight back to London. I’m turning into quite a commuter.”

“And all on my behalf.” Tozer groaned and sat forward in his chair, massaging his forehead. “Thanks for doing this, Tim. You’d be justified in telling me to get stuffed after I let you find out about Kerry Foxton the hard way.”

“It certainly might have been better if you’d filled me in on the background before I went to Penzance.”

“Don’t think I don’t know it. Bloody stupid of me to think all that stuff wouldn’t crop up. Truth is, I was just trying to get Humph off my back the easiest way I could. As to whether the ring rightfully belonged to Dad or Uncle Gabriel… I couldn’t give a toss. Anyway…” Tozer took a deep pull on his cigarette. “I don’t want to see Hayley banged up. I didn’t murder Kerry. Christ, why should I have? But…” Another pull. “I should’ve checked our gear more thoroughly. There’s no dodging that. I didn’t know Kerry was planning to enter the wreck, but even so… I wasn’t meticulous enough. Which makes me partly responsible for everything that happened. Then and after. Including this latest…” He shook his head. “Bloody hell. I don’t know what I’d do without Carol. Meeting her was the best stroke of luck I’ve ever had. Just a pity it coincided with the worst, hey? Funny thing, life. And death.”

“Funnier than you know.” Harding winced at the unpredictability of Tozer’s reaction to what he was about to say. “I was in Penzance a few days after the accident, Barney. With Polly. We went down to see the eclipse.”

“You did?” Tozer frowned. “Why didn’t you mention that when I asked you to go over?”