She went to the shop first, hurrying along the aisles and throwing items into a basket: milk, eggs, bread, mince, mushrooms, onions and a tin of tomatoes. She did it all unthinkingly, her mind preoccupied by other things. She still wanted to believe that this was some sort of sick mind game Mona was playing and that she hadn’t really committed murder. You couldn’t just go and kill a man like that. You’d have to be crazy, deranged, a psychopath. But then maybe she was. And maybe Sadie had made the worst mistake of her life by not telling the police about her.

She paid for the food, grabbed the bags and went back out into the cold evening air. The wind whipped around, the icy air stinging her face. How was she going to ask that all-important question? She tried to choose the words as she walked. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could come right out and say. Even the thought of broaching the subject made her feel sick inside.

Sadie stepped inside the phone box and placed the carrier bags by her feet. Her heart was pounding again as she took the slip of paper from her pocket and laid the coins out on the ledge. All she had to do was to establish whether Mona was guilty or not. And if she was, if she definitely was, then Sadie would go and see Inspector Frayne and tell him everything. She may have bottled it before but this time would be different.

Carefully, she dialled the number. As she stood there listening to the phone ringing, she muttered a prayer that this nightmare would soon be over. Please God. The phone rang eight times before it was eventually answered.

‘Hello?’

Sadie pulled in a breath, her lips feeling dry. The pips went and she quickly pushed the change into the slot. ‘Mona?’

‘Hey, Sadie. Hello. How are you?’

Mona sounded so bright and breezy, so normal, that Sadie felt a wave of relief wash over her. ‘I’m all right.’

‘Thanks for calling me back. I’m glad you got the book.’

‘Yes, but I don’t really understand why… why you sent it to me.’

‘Because you said you liked it. On the train. Don’t you remember?’

‘I said I’d read it.’

‘But you wouldn’t have read it if you didn’t like it.’

Suddenly Sadie caught an edge of slyness in the girl’s voice. ‘Oh, I see.’

‘Did you enjoy your walk this afternoon?’

‘What?’ Surprised by the question, Sadie glanced over her shoulder as if Mona might be watching her. ‘How did you…’

‘Joel told me,’ Mona said softly. ‘And you’re right. He is nice. We had a long chat. He mentioned how upset you were about Eddie.’

Sadie swallowed hard. ‘I am upset,’ she said. ‘We might have had our differences but I never wanted him dead.’

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before Mona spoke again. ‘I’ve got something else to send you.’

‘Why would you send me anything else?’

‘I’ll put it in the post tomorrow.’

‘What is it?’

But Mona didn’t answer directly. ‘Your picture was in the paper. Did you know?’

‘What? What picture?’

‘You and Eddie on the day you got married. It was in… I don’t know, one of the evening papers, the Standard or the News. Would you like me to post it to you? It’s no trouble. I can send it with —’

‘No,’ Sadie said sharply. ‘I don’t want you to send it. I don’t want you to send anything else.’

‘Oh,’ Mona said. She left a short pause before adding, ‘Right, yes, I understand. That was silly of me.’

Sadie wasn’t sure what she meant. That it was insensitive or something else entirely? She took another deep breath, knowing that she had to ask but not entirely sure how to do so. ‘Look, er… do you know anything about how Eddie died?’

‘Of course,’ Mona said.

Sadie felt her heart miss a beat. Her hand tightened around the phone. ‘You do?’ she croaked.

‘It says in the paper that he was stabbed. But they don’t always tell the truth, do they? Most journalists make it up as they go along.’

‘How did you hear about it?’

A soft sigh floated down the line. ‘In the paper,’ Mona said. ‘Didn’t I just tell you that?’

‘So you didn’t… I mean…’ But Sadie didn’t have the nerve to ask her outright. ‘You haven’t…’

‘Haven’t what?’

‘The police came to interview me,’ Sadie said. ‘I’d been to see Eddie just before he was murdered.’

‘Had you?’ Mona paused again. ‘But they can’t think that you had anything to do with it.’

‘Why not? I was the last person… almost the last person to see him alive.’

Mona released a peel of laughter. ‘Even the cops aren’t that stupid. Why would you do it? You don’t have a motive.’

‘I wanted a divorce.’

‘You don’t kill people because you want a divorce. Anyway, if they thought it was you, you’d be locked up by now. And you’re not. You’re a free woman. There’s nothing to worry about.’

‘There’s plenty to worry about.’

‘You’re not too upset, are you? About Eddie, I mean.’

Sadie frowned. ‘Of course I am.’

‘It’s probably just the shock. But there’s no point crying over spilt milk, is there? What’s done is done. You just have to get on with your life.’

Sadie couldn’t believe how blasé the girl was, as if the murder of a husband was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience. Spilt milk? Mona didn’t seem affected at all by the enormity of what had happened. Was that because she had killed him or because she wasn’t capable of any kind of empathy? Both, perhaps.

‘Are you still there?’ Mona asked.

‘Yes.’

‘It went all quiet there for a while. What were you thinking?’

‘Nothing,’ Sadie said. She shuffled from foot to foot, exasperated by her inability to reach the truth. ‘Nothing much.’

‘When are you coming back to London?’

‘I’m not. I mean, I haven’t got any plans. Why would I —’

‘No,’ Mona quickly interrupted. ‘Maybe you’re right. Best not, I suppose.’

The pips went and Sadie put another ten pence in. Her frustration was reaching breaking point. ‘Mona?’

‘Yes?’

But still Sadie couldn’t find a way to ask the all-important question. It hung on the tip of her tongue like a drop of poisoned water. With her left hand, she raked her fingers through her hair. ‘I thought I saw you,’ she said eventually. ‘When I was in Kellston, I thought I saw you going into the station.’

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. And then that odd laugh came again, more of a giggle this time. ‘Who, me?’

‘Yes.’

‘How strange.’

‘So you weren’t there?’

‘Why would I be there?’

‘I don’t know,’ Sadie said, defeated. ‘Look, I have to go. I’m almost out of money.’

‘Bye then,’ Mona said. ‘Take care of yourself. And don’t forget.’

‘Forget what?’

But Mona had already hung up.

Sadie replaced the receiver, aware that she was no closer to learning the truth than when she’d picked the damn thing up. She ran through the conversation in her head as she gazed out through the smeared glass panels at the street. Mona had not said anything that directly implicated her and yet…

As she bent to lift the carrier bags, Sadie had a sudden thought. Perhaps there was another way of finding out about Eddie. She stood upright again and rummaged in her bag for a pen. Failing to find one, she had to resort to an eyeliner pencil. Then, after flipping over the piece of paper with Mona’s details on, she dialled Directory Enquiries.

‘Yes, could I have the number for Ramones, please? It’s a bar on Kellston High Street. That’s Kellston, East London.’

There was a short pause before the number was relayed to her. Sadie quickly scribbled it down, said thank you and hung up. She took out some more change from her purse and picked up the receiver again. Would he be there? She glanced at her watch. It was after six now and so hopefully he would be.

The phone was answered smartly after only a couple of rings. The pips went, Sadie put her money in and a male voice said, ‘Ramones.’