Author's note: A chapter smaller than usual but you might like the ending. Thanks a lot to all of you who find the time to write your own stories and to review the chapters I post (you know who you are). I don't know how you manage to do that (if I read I don't write and vice versa...) but you keep me going.

Vera considered the young man in front of her. If being interviewed by two police officers made him feel ill at ease he was not showing it. In a light green suit, he looked relaxed and affable; the opposite of Joe Ashworth whose tension she could feel without even looking at him. She liked Joe, he was a good boy and a decent copper but he needed to stiffen his back. He was too easily intimidated by educated or upper class people so she kept roughing him up to force him to build more self-confidence. And also, because she liked that.

'So tell me, pet, how should I call you? Sir? Your Lordship?'

Pennyworth laughed.

'Nothing of that sort for me, Inspector.'

'No title? Really? After all those earls, and baronesses, that's a change.'

'I'm glad this pleases you. I'm the offspring of a disowned man. My great-aunt holds the family title; she's a viscountess. I might inherit the title when the dear old woman dies but that's far from certain, and in any case until then 'pet' is probably the best name you can call me.'

'You're not from Great Britain, are you?'

'I'm from South Africa, as I'm sure you already know, but I've a dual nationality. I came here for my convalescence.'

'You were feeling home-sick?'

'Hardly, it's my first time in the old country but I needed a bit of support and my aunt generously offered to welcome me.'

'That's very kind of her. When did you arrive?'

As if you didn't already know, Alistair thought. He answered nonetheless in his most charming voice:

'Just before Christmas.'

'It was the first time you came to a Hastings club meeting then.'

'Yes, and it's a first time I'm not going to forget.'

'Was Lady Juniper one of your acquaintances?'

'I can't say I've any acquaintances in this country yet. I met Lord and Lady Juniper for the first time on Friday afternoon when I arrived at the hotel.'

'She was your age; I suppose you two got along well.'

'Yes, we did but don't go imagining things, Inspector, I get along well with almost everybody. My father said I had no backbone but I like to think I can see the best in everyone.'

'Just like me!' Vera exclaimed. 'One mustn't think because I'm a detective I find everything and everyone suspicious. See, someone saw you creeping out of Lady Victoria's bedroom on Friday night and my sergeant here thinks you were up to no good, especially since you didn't mention this when we first talked to you, but I told him that there must be a perfectly logical explanation.' Vera smiled. 'So, Mr Pennyworth, what's your explanation?'

The surprise took Alistair's breath away; he hadn't expected so much shrewdness from the scruffy inspector, but then he remembered Lynley's advice:' Don't underestimate her.' He quickly regained his composure and weighing his options in a split second opted for the truth:

'A little bird told you that, Inspector? No, let me guess, a jealous, embittered, old baroness did. I should have known Edwina would be peering through the peephole of her door at the faintest sound in the corridor in the hope of catching Victoria in a compromising situation.'

'So you don't deny your going to Lady Victoria's bedroom.'

'That's incorrect. What I don't deny is having gone to Victoria's suite of rooms but I never reached her bedroom. I didn't get further than the first meter beyond the door of the suite to be precise.'

'When was that exactly?' Vera asked.

'At about quarter to midnight. We talked briefly but she said she was tired and wanted to go to sleep so I left her.'

'You must have been disappointed,' Vera commented with a smile.

'What do you mean?'

'Come on, pet, we've an eyewitness, remember? You turned up on Lady V's doorstep with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. You certainly expected more than a few words in the doorway.'

Pennyworth sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes.

'What can I tell you? I was wrong, it's as simple as that.'

'What made you think she might be interested?' Joe asked. 'She had gone to bed complaining of migraine, she was a newlywed woman, her husband was sleeping in the adjoining bedroom, and nevertheless you bring her champagne and expect to sleep with her?'

'I took a chance. I thought she had sent me some…signals…she wanted my company that night.'

'What sort of signals? When?' Vera asked, regaining some interest in the conversation.

'At dinner. Subtle signs, really, the brushing of my leg under the table, her hand resting on mine a tad too long. But as I said I probably imagined all those things.'

'But they didn't surprise you?'

'With all due modesty, I'm a favourite with women and Juniper's old; I doubted he could satisfy the needs of his young wife.'

'Was Victoria alone when you saw her?'

'The living-room was dimly lit but I'm positive there was no one there.'

'Did she seem nervous or anxious?'

'No, she was calm. She only wanted me to leave her alone.'

'Could you see her bedroom from where you were?'

'Her bedroom? No. Why? You think someone was hiding there? Her killer?'

'Or a guest she didn't want you to see. Why didn't you tell us all this when we talked to you yesterday?'

'A man has his pride, Inspector. I imagined things and ended up a fool; I had no wish to let anyone know. Victoria was alive and well when I left her; I've nothing to do with her death, you must believe me.'

'All right. That'd be all, for this time. Joe, you will have someone take Mr Pennyworth's new statement before he leaves the hotel.'

Vera got up with difficulty and headed for the door. Before she left the room however she turned towards Pennyworth:

'One last thing. What did you do with that bottle of bubbly? You gave it to Lady V.?'

'No, I brought it back with me. Not very chivalrous but I needed to drown my sorrows.'

Vera smiled.

'And you drowned them alone?'

'You really are nosey! No, not alone. With the night clerk.'

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'So what have we got so far?' Vera asked her team in the evening.

They were all gathered in their open-plan office around the white board on which the main points of the investigation were pinned.

Holly was the first to speak:

'I've checked Lady Victoria's personal bank account but I didn't see anything suspicious. She had around £147,000 on it and I didn't see any strange deposit or withdrawal in the last three months.'

'She didn't work; where did the money come from?' Joe asked.

'From her husband mainly: he transferred her a nice sum on the first of each month, and then she received dividends from various shares she had. Her expenses were mainly of the sort you would expect from that kind of woman: designer clothes, beauty care, luxury items.'

'Nothing interesting then; and what about her love life?' Vera asked.

'Well, she seemed to have had a lot of fun before her marriage, she had several boyfriends, all rich and powerful, but most of the people I talked to thought she had settled down after her wedding.'

'Most people?'

'You know how it is, people say they don't want to speak ill of the dead…'

'…but they do it anyway,' Vera cut in.

'Some were not convinced she was faithful to her husband but didn't have any proof to support their allegations. It was only a gut feeling.'

'Or their jealousy speaking,' Joe said.

Vera threw him a dark glance before coming back to Holly.

'And did their guts have an idea who her lover was?'

'No, they didn't.'

'Or they wouldn't say!' Vera shouted suddenly.

'That was to be expected,' Joe said,' they close ranks; they won't tell the police even if they know something.'

'Or they're afraid of Juniper's reaction if he heard them gossiping about his wife's infidelities.'

'He sure isn't a man you want to mess with.'

'What's that supposed to mean, Joe?' Vera thundered. 'You're afraid of him? You'd be more inspired to be afraid of me! What do we know about the man anyway?'

Charlie took out his notebook and began to read:

'Randolph Charles Joseph Juniper, ninth earl of the name, born and raised at Claptom House, the family estate in Essex, except for the time he spent studying at Eton and Cambridge. Spends his time now between the estate and his town house in London. One grown-up son from his previous marriage; his wife died ten years ago, ovarian cancer. He's a business man. He owns plenty of land, several manors he turned into luxury hotels, a racing stable which produced several champions. He has stakes in several companies in the property business and in finance. He's filthy rich, used to play polo with the Prince of Wales, and is on the best terms with several Tory politicians including our current PM.'

'No skeleton in the closet?'

'He has the reputation of being a very tough businessman who shows no feeling or remorse but he's also said to be honest and I didn't find any trace of wrongdoing.'

'Thank you, Charlie. Holly, you didn't say about Victoria's phone records.'

'I haven't received them yet. The operator told me I should have them tomorrow.'

'First thing in the morning then. Charlie, I'll need the gen on Lady Edwina Morton-Meyers. She may have known how to tamper with the victim's pills.'

Vera took a red marker and turned to the whiteboard. 'Now, thanks to Mr Alistair Pennyworth and Lady Morton-Meyers we know Lady V. was alive at quarter to midnight. What we don't know was if she was alone in her bedroom or not. As to the identity of her lover, Billy cleared Hardling, Cresswell and Lynley so far. If the night clerk confirms she spent the rest of the night with Pennyworth, that'd be four names we could erase from our list.'

With her pen she drew a big interrogation mark next to the chauffeur's.

'So back to Mr Sivajothi. Have we any information as to his whereabouts?'

'Not yet,' Joe answered. 'Colleagues from Essex searched his room at the estate but they found nothing of interest. He has a cousin in Exeter who claims he doesn't know where he is. We keep an eye on him, just in case Sivajothi tries to contact him. He also has a brother who lives in Sweden, a wildlife photographer, but I didn't manage to contact him. Apparently he's doing a shooting north of the polar circle.'

'All this leaves me cold. And the car? Someone would surely notice a silver Rolls-Royce.'

'No such luck for the moment but if he has any sense he has already dumped it. Too showy.'

'Then find where he's dumped it! I shouldn't have to tell you how to do your job, Joe.'

'Oh, right, I so needed you to tell me we need that bloody car,' Joe snapped back.

Vera looked like she was going to reply but she changed her mind and dismissed the team.

'It's late, go home and have a good night's sleep.'

The team didn't move.

'What?' Vera asked. 'I'm not going to pay you overtime so off you go!'

'Is it true that New Scotland Yard is taking charge of the investigation?' Charlie asked.

'They will help us,' Vera answered, emphasizing the verb,' but we'll still be in charge, Charlie. We're going to teach these greenhorns how we work up North!'

Cheers and applause ensued.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Joe Ashworth switched off his computer and took his jacket off the back of his chair. As usual he was the last one to leave. The kids would probably be in bed when he arrives home. He noticed the light was still on in Vera's office. He poked his head around the door. She was reading a file.

'You're not going home?'

She grumbled some unintelligible words and waved him away. He came in and sat on the chair on the other side of her desk.

'It's the case that's bothering you?'

She threw the file on her desk where several others were scattered. Pointing at each one in turn she enumerated:

'Essex. Cambridgeshire. Devon. Warwickshire. Even Cornwall! And I'm only talking about the main residences of these Lordships! Then there are the townhouses in London, the houses in the country, the hunting lodges, not to mention various homes and luxury flats abroad. It's going to be a full-time job just to keep track of all the persons involved.'

'You can assign someone from the Yard to it.'

Vera smiled.

'That's an idea; one less on our back.'

'Do you think they're coming to spy on us?' Joe asked, suddenly serious.

'Spy on us?'

'Juniper had them sent here.'

'They will surely be under a lot of pressure from their hierarchy to bring results quickly but so are we. We're all in the same boat, Joe.'

'How well do you know Lynley?'

'Tommy? What's he got to do with this?'

'Nothing, just wondering…perhaps he could tell you what he thinks of our new colleagues.'

'Launching a counter-intelligence operation, are we, Joe?'

'No,' he protested. 'See it as a way to enhance our cooperation with New Scotland Yard, they work with us, we work with them, we share information, isn't that what we're supposed to do?'

'Clever lad. Now go home or your wife is going to kill me. Lynley's probably trying to find a way to save his partnership with his beloved sergeant at that time. I'll call him tomorrow.'

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Actually DI Thomas Lynley was trying to find a way to open Barbara's new sofa bed.

'Oh, for God's sake, Barbara, get that thing open or I swear I'll make love to you up against that wall!'

'You're too old for that and I do like some comfort.'

'First I'm not too old; second, if you like your comfort then why aren't we in Belgravia?'

'I told you I wanted to go home tonight. Not my fault if you became all horny.'

'Not your fault!'

'Well, yeah, probably a bit.'

He frowned at her over the sofa.

'OK, a lot. Now, pull that part. No, not this one, that one, and…Watch out!'

'OUCH!'

The bed had opened suddenly, crushing Tommy's finger between two metal rods.

'Get some cold water on it!' Barbara said but Tommy was already rushing towards the sink.

The cold water brought some relief but Tommy had the feeling his heart was beating at the tip of his finger.

'Damn it! I'm sure I'm going to lose my nail.'

'Do you think your finger's broken?' Barbara asked.

Slowly Tommy bended his finger, then he carefully felt it.

'Doesn't seem so. But it's throbbing. Why the heck did you change your sofa bed anyway?'

'The other one was too old; it was breaking my back.'

'And the new one is after my fingers. Why don't you move in with me for good? You hardly come here anymore. I was serious when I proposed to you. I want you to be my wife, Barbara.'

'Don't move. Keep your finger under the water.'

'You could sell your house.'

'I don't want to sell it!'

'All right, you could rent it then.'

'I like my independence.'

'Is that your way of telling me you don't want to marry me?'

'No! But…'

'But what?'

'I don't want you to marry me because you feel guilty I'm going to lose my job.'

'You're not going to lose your job!'

'Maybe not, but we both know that's the end of "Lynley and Havers".'

'No, we don't, and I didn't propose because of the uncertainties over our jobs, Barbara. I love you. I love you so much I want to spend the rest of my life with you…'

'Keep your finger under the water!'

'I don't care about my finger! Barbara,' he took her hands in his,' I want to wake up next to you every day until the last one, I want to have children with you and raise them with you, I want to grow old with you. I don't care about the rest; I don't need it. But I need you. Totally, passionately.'

'I'm scared.'

'I know.'

'Are you scared too?'

'No, I'm not. My mind's made up. I know what I want and I want to be with you.'

'I want that too, Tommy.'

'Dare I hope that's a 'yes'?'

'That's a 'yes' if you promise you'll never ask me again to go with you to a Hastings club meeting.'

'Whatever you want, my love.'

'So, yes.'

Tommy took her in his arms and spun her around.

Kissing, laughing, they fell on the bed.