Thorne’s face put his impatience on display. ‘What is this? Twenty questions? Who do I know? You’ve asked me about press releases on the Pulgas water poisoning. I’ve told you that you may check with my staff. The releases were not ours. They were not prepared here.’

‘One of my colleagues found them outside in the hallway on Saturday, bound for distribution.’

Thorne shrugged. ‘So what? I didn’t write them. I didn’t put them there. Obviously, someone is trying to make us look bad, connected to these people, as they tried with Mr Kerry over the weekend. There’s a pattern here, all right, but it’s not of my making.’ Disappointed in humanity, he shook his head. ‘If this is your smoking gun, Mr Elliot… well, there’s no story here.’

Spreading his hands, he assayed a cold smile. ‘My clients are good people, Mr Elliot. They’re not terrorists. They’re concerned with exposing the endless lies that the oil companies have foisted upon an ignorant public, lies that polluted our air for years and now threaten-’

‘How about Ellis Jackson? What’s your relationship with him?’

Having established what he thought was a plausible deniability, Thorne softened slightly, the voice become nearly avuncular. ‘What about him?’

‘Is he your client?’

A sad shake of the head. ‘I’ve told you I’m not at liberty to disclose the identities of my clients. I of course knew Ellis Jackson when I worked for SKO.’ Another reasonable smile. The last time I checked, there was no crime in that. He’s a great man. Now, if you’re…‘

‘Not quite.’ Hardy spoke up for the first time. ‘You never answered Jeff’s question about knowing Bree Beaumont. Did you talk with a Sergeant Griffin about her death?’

‘Yes, I believe that was his name.’

‘Then how could you not have heard of her?’

‘I never said I hadn’t heard of her. Of course I know who she was. She’s been one of the most vocal and recognizable names in the field over the last decade. She was extremely courageous to change sides and go up against Goliath as she did.’ He paused for emphasis, adding matter of factly, ‘And of course they killed her for it.’

‘The oil companies?’

‘Can you doubt it?’

Hardy snorted in exasperation. ‘I don’t think so.’

But Thorne remained infuriatingly unruffled. ‘I can’t really tell you what to think, Mr Hardy. But if you think people, individuals, don’t die over Big Oil, don’t get killed, I recommend that you catch up on your research. Have you been following events in Nigeria recently? There are literally millions of other examples. And that’s leaving out most of our wars from Kuwait going all the way back to World War Two. Oil and market share.’

The small, quiet, powerful man stood behind his desk. ‘Now, really, I’m afraid that’s all I have time for. I think you’ll be able to find your way out. Oh, and Mr Elliot,’ – a rictus smile – ‘the libel laws in this state are quite severe, as I’m sure you know. It’s one way my clients can combat an unscrupulous enemy. They have been quite aggressive in pursuing legal redress for unsubstantiated news stories.’

On the way out, Hardy pushing Jeff’s wheelchair, the sweet young thing at the reception desk wished them a good morning, and gave Hardy a little wave.

Frannie sat on the table in the attorney’s room at the jail, swinging her legs. She looked like a schoolgirl, the impression reinforced by the fact that she’d put her hair into pigtails. To Hardy, the jail’s jumpsuit was still jarring to see on her. But after yesterday’s two visits up in the homicide detail, he found the jail garb easier to accept. Soon, he told himself, it would all be behind them. Today was the last day. He prayed.

As soon as they got Ron’s note out of the way. But like everything else, this wasn’t going smoothly. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked. ‘You’re not sure you’re going to be OK with this? With telling about Ron?’

Her face took on a stubborn set that Hardy didn’t like to see. He forced himself to speak in a calm tone.

‘Frannie, listen. By the time it gets to the grand jury again, if it does, it won’t matter. He’ll be gone, if he isn’t already.’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. He doesn’t want to move the kids, start over someplace else. He’ll wait. Just like he said he would.’

‘But either way, he’s released you from the confidence.’ Hardy didn’t want to push too hard trying to convince her, but he felt he had to nail this down. If it came to it, tomorrow Frannie would have to disclose Ron’s secret.

It wasn’t sitting at all well with her. But she nodded. ‘I hate to give that creep Scott Randall the satisfaction. Besides, from all you’ve told me, it sounds like Ron isn’t anywhere near the best suspect anymore.’

‘No, I don’t think he is,’ Hardy admitted. ‘But until they have another one dumped in their laps, they’re going to pretend.’

‘But really, it still comes down to me, doesn’t it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, you’re close. Abe’s close. Maybe it’ll only be another day…’ The legs had stopped swinging. Her hands were folded in front of her now, her eyes cast downward. ‘What I’m saying is that if I still don’t tell, maybe Ron gets some more breathing room.’

Hardy was sitting casually on one of the wooden chairs that surrounded the table. It was all he could do to remain in that posture. He felt the blood racing in his temples, and willed himself to keep his voice even. ‘Ron doesn’t want to you do that, Frannie. I can’t imagine why you’d want to do that.’

She raised her agonized eyes. ‘It’s not a matter of wanting, Dismas. It’s the last thing in the world I want to do. But I know what Max and Cassandra have already gone through, and as soon as I open my mouth, their world is over – don’t you see that? If I can give you or Abe more time to save them…’

But Hardy was shaking his head. ‘That’s not what’s going to happen, Frannie. What’s going to happen is even if you don’t talk on Tuesday, your friend Mr Randall is going to get his indictment on Ron.’

‘But why? There’s still no evidence, is there? More than there was last week?’

Hardy agreed. ‘Very little. But that doesn’t matter. There’s probably enough for a grand jury. Ron’s flight alone, if it comes to it. Phony credit cards, fake IDs, consciousness of guilt. And as soon as Ron is indicted, it’s over for him and the kids. He’ll be in the system and from there that’s what will take over – the system. Regardless of what you do. That’s the good news, Frannie. It’s out of your hands.’

‘So you’re saying I have to tell.’

‘I’m saying it wouldn’t do any good not to.’ Suddenly his temper flared. ‘Jesus Christ, Frannie! It gets you out of here. What do you want?’

‘What I want,’ she yelled back at him, ‘is to go to our home which isn’t there anymore.’ She angrily shook away the beginning of tears. ‘And be able to hug our children.’

Hardy longed to reach for her, to tell her it was OK, that they were still all right. But he wasn’t sure they were all right. He didn’t miss the omission of himself as among those she wanted to hug. ‘You can do that, Frannie,’ he said evenly. ‘At Erin’s. We can all be there. Rebuild.’ He added hesitantly. ‘The house and us.’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

His stomach clutched at him, but he had to ask. ‘No what?’

‘You say it, but I don’t know if you really want to do that. What it might take.’

‘And what is that?’

Now Frannie paused, took a deep breath, and let it out. ‘Being each other’s lives again.’

‘But we are…’

Holding up a hand, she stopped him. ‘Dismas. Remember when we were first together. Remember that? You were working just as hard then. You had your trials and your cases and your career. But mostly you had us, remember?

‘And you’d come home as early as you could every day and I’d be on the front stoop with the Beck and Vincent, all of us waiting for you. And they’d come running to greet you, hugging your legs, so happy to have Daddy home again. And you so happy to see them, too. Remember that? And then you and I would go in and feed them and put them to bed and then go talk and laugh and wind up making love more often than not. Didn’t that used to happen? I’m not making that up in my memory, am I?’