Like Michael, Ethan had asked his father to come. But there ended the similarities. Ethan looked confident and relaxed. His father, Edward, a man in his early fifties with grey hair, exuded wealth from every pore: a tailor-made suit, golden cufflinks, a signet ring of the same metal, and a watch worth roughly the same amount of money than Barbara's house. However when he started talking, Barbara didn't hear the boarding-school accent she expected but rather the accent of her former neighbourhood. Richardson senior was a self-made man who had made a fortune and wanted everyone to notice. So nouveau riche, Barbara thought. She had no tenderness in general for the ones who were born with a silver spoon in their mouth but the contrast with Lynley was striking and in favour of the hereditary Lord. At least, she thought, Lynley has the decency not to ram his money down everybody's throat. Richardson threw a glance at the two detectives as they were settling down. Barbara noticed the scornful look in his eyes at her appearance. Then he looked at Lynley and seemed to like what he saw. Lynley introduced himself and Barbara and before Barbara could start the recording, Richardson spoke in an overly light way:

- So, what did this little rascal do to be summoned here? New Scotland Yard, that's something!, he said to Lynley with a knowing look.

- Murder and rape are quite something too, Lynley replied in an official tone, setting clearly the distance between them. Sergeant, are you ready to record?

- Yes,Sir.

- Wait a minute, Richardson cut in. I thought you wanted to talk to Ethan about the rape of his friend, Carrie. What's that murder you're talking about?

- I told you, Dad, Ethan replied before Lynley could speak. One of the teachers at the college was killed some days ago. It was in the newspaper.

- Ah, yes, it's true. I remember. What a horrible thing, he added letting his voice trail off.

Lynley and Havers appreciated the double act's performance in connoisseurs.

- But, Inspector, if you wanted to talk to Ethan, all this…, Richardson made a circular gesture encompassing the interview room, …was unnecessary. I take pride in being an honest citizen and businessman and I strove to instill this state of mind in my son. He is more than willing to cooperate with the police if that can help you solve the brutal murder of his teacher. Am I right, son?

- Of course.

- You see. My son's got nothing to hide.

- Thank you, Mr. Richardson. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to hear Ethan. Ethan, how's it going at the college?

- Nothing to complain about.

- Got good marks?

- Yes. I've a specialization in plumbing.

- Plumbing? Well, that's an interesting choice.

- That's a sensible choice, Barbara cut in. There seems to be a shortage of plumbers. I had a real job finding one to repair my shower last month, and it cost me an arm and a leg.

- I have somewhat higher ambitions, the boy said.

- Could you explains?, asked Lynley.

Edward Richardson answered for his son:

- I trained as a plumber at the same college than Ethan many years ago. I'm glad my son decided to follow in my footsteps, creating a sort of family tradition, if you see what I mean, he said smiling at Lynley.

- Very well, answered the policeman briefly returning the smile.

- I started my business and a bit later I specialized in the installation of swimming pools. I must say it's been a success. I now head 12 stores throughout the country that offer top-of-the-range swimming-pools, saunas, Jacuzzis, hammams. I hope one day Ethan will take over from me at the head of the firm and I deem it essential, considering our core activity, that he has a good command of plumbing. We'll think about the MBA when he's a bit older, he added only half in jest.

- The crisis didn't affect your business?, asked Barbara.

Richardson threw her a condescending look:

- Sergeant, the crisis harmed the middle-class and the working class but my customer base is the so-called 1% and many of rich got even richer during this crisis.

- And so did you, Barbara concluded sarcastically.

Richardson didn't comment but he opened his hands in an eloquent move, with a smile.

- So it seems your path is all laid out for you, Ethan, and quite a path, Lynley said to the boy. It's not the case for all your friends, I guess. Does it generate some tension between you, some jealousy, some resentment?

- I have a circle of close friends you saw when you came to the college. I pay no attention to the others.

- And Carrie Mulligan was part of your circle of friends?

- Exactly.

- Was there a bit more between you?

- What do you mean?

- I saw a photograph of Carrie, and she was beautiful. Didn't you fancy her a bit?

- She was cute but no. I'm with Abby. The black girl you saw yesterday.

- I remember Abby. Very beautiful too. And clever.

- Yes. That's what I like in her.

- And Carrie wasn't bright?

- Not as bright as Abby.

- Did Carrie take drugs?

-No. I mean I don't think so. I never saw her smoking a joint.

- What about you, Ethan? Do you do drugs?

- No.

No hesitation. The voice was loud and clear.

- Not even some recreational drugs when partying?

- You want to know if I was on drugs at Olivia's party? The answer's no. Did I drink alcohol? Yes. Was I drunk? Well I was certainly over the limit but not completely sozzled. And Dad had given me some money for a cab.

- That's true, Edward Richardson cut in. I remember how I was when I was young. Quite a lad I was! It's easy to drink too much when at a party but I always give Ethan some money to catch a cab so there's no risk he'd get involved in a road accident. Youth must have its fling. But I'm uncompromising: no drugs and Ethan knows that.

- And you really think he'd tell you if he smoked weed?, Barbara asked in disbelief.

- I expect him to tell me, yes. I will be disappointed, of course, but he knows he'd better tell me than let me find out by myself. That's something I've kept telling him since he was a little child: if you ever do something stupid, tell me right away and we'll try to fix what can be fixed before things get worse. If he ever tries out drugs, I'd prefer to know right away and help him before he becomes an addict.

- That's very sensible of you, Mr. Richardson, Lynley said.

It was a sensitive subject as the inspector didn't want to wonder if he could have helped his brother before he became an addict so he went on quickly with another question:

- What did you dress up as?

- Sorry?, Ethan asked.

- At Olivia's party, what did you dress up as?

- I was an elf. You see the sort: long hair, pointed ears.

- Perfectly. You were some sort of Legolas.

Barbara threw Lynley an astonished look. First Dr. Who, and now the Lord of the Rings. The inspector was keeping his cards closer to his chest than she thought.

- That's exactly what I was, Ethan confirmed. Complete with a bow and a quiver.

- Did you wear a mask?

- Yes. It wasn't mandatory but I think that's part of the game.

- Can you tell me what your friends were wearing?

- Abby dressed up as a clown; Olivia was wearing a wedding gown; Michael was Tintin the reporter. I can't remember what Jonathan and Emma wore…Ah, yes, Emma dressed up as Charlie Chaplin. And Carrie…I remember seeing her at the party but her fancy dress didn't strike me, sorry…

- Did they wear masks?

- Abby didn't but she wore a lot of make-up so in the end it was the same. Olivia and Emma didn't wear a mask, Michael did.

- What about Carrie?

- Carrie…er…, no, she didn't wear any mask.

- Did you notice if Carrie drank a lot or if she took drugs?

- Frankly, no. I had all my attention focused on Abby, Ethan replied with innuendo.

- Of course, Lynley said with a smile of complicity. So you didn't notice anyone hanging round Carrie?

- Unfortunately no.

- All right. Now that we have clarified these points, let's delve into the subject of the video. As I told you yesterday, there's a video on Internet showing Carrie being raped. We cannot be 100% sure but there's a strong chance that the rape and the cyber-bullying she was subjected to after the upload of the video were the reasons behind Carrie's decision to take her own life.

- She should have talked to us, Ethan said with regrets in his voice. We were her friends but she didn't confide in us. We didn't know she'd been raped. Her parents didn't even tell us after her death when we were all wondering why she had killed herself.

- For personal reasons Carrie's parents don't want anyone to know about the rape of their daughter. It is most unfortunate, but we have to respect their decision.

- So why are you questioning my son, Inspector?, Edward Richarson asked curtly.

His manners had changed dramatically. Gone was the affability. The two detectives were now facing a harsh, resolute man, who used to have things his own way.

- If the parents aren't interested in an investigation into their daughter's rape, I don't see the point of all this. You're wasting our time for nothing, he added while getting up.

- Mr. Richardson, I don't think the rape and suicide of a 15-year old girl is "nothing". All the more so as these events seem to be linked to a murder.

Lynley hadn't raised his voice but he held Richardson's eyes with his own. The two men were eyeballs to eyeballs for a few seconds then Richardson surrendered and sat down.

- So you think this can be linked to Mr. Follett's murder?, asked Ethan. How would that be?

- We know the video was put online using one of the computers reserved for the staff of the Insider.

- That considerably limits the number of the suspects, then, Ethan went on. Mr. Follett was part of the staff but don't tell me he put the video online, I won't believe you. He looked really saddened and shocked by Carrie's death and I just can't imagine him doing such a thing.

- You're right. Mark Follett didn't put the video online. The thing is Follett was trying to find who that person was and he could well have managed to find him if he'd had the time.

Edward Richardson was wriggling impatiently. Suddenly he turned towards his son.

- Ethan, do you have access to these computers?

- No, Dad. I don't work for the Insider.

- So, all is said. Ethan has nothing to do with all this, Inspector, and I've a business to run. So we'll stop here.

- So much for the candid cooperation with the police, we're model citizens, blah, blah, blah…, Barbara quipped.

Feeling that this time he wouldn't be able to stop Ethan and his father from going, Lynley decided to stake his all:

-Ethan, we know who put the video online and we know you gave it to that person. Now where did you get it? Did you film it?

- Enough now, Inspector. I don't think the accusations brought against my son by a depraved boy…

- How do you know it's a boy?, Lynley asked promptly but Richardson continued:

- ...in a pathetic attempt at clearing his name are worthy of interest. Now, either you charge my son with something or we're off. And if you ever want to talk to Ethan again, it will be in the presence of my lawyer. Cooperation has its limits, he concluded glowering at Barbara.

- Mr. Richardson, this is a murder investigation. We want to know more about this video because the victim was interested in it. Everything your son can tell us may help us find the murderer of a well-respected man. May I remind you that anyone withholding information on a murder case may be charged with obstruction?

- Inspector, we don't want to obstruct the course of justice but you do realize this questioning is taking a turn that can be highly detrimental for my son. It is out of the question that you go on questioning Ethan without the presence of a lawyer. Good day, Inspector. Sergeant.

On these words he got up, and his son followed suit. Lynley had no choice; he let the Richardsons leave.

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- Well, if I don't smell a rat here, I'm completely lost as a copper, Barbara said as she sat down on a chair in front of Lynley's desk.

- It was most certainly an interesting interview. We may well have started a hare, to use another expression with an animal.

Lynley felt his partner's eyes on him.

- What's wrong?

- Legolas…

- Sorry?

- Le-go-las?!, I never thought you'd know The Lord of the Rings…

- I'm not a hermit living in a cave, Havers. Besides, since he had met him in Oxford, my grand-father was a great admirer of Tolkien. We've all the first editions of his books in the library at Howenstow.

- I should have known better, Barbara replied rolling her eyes. The Oxford connection…I guess you never saw the films, that would have been too…vulgar.

- Oh, please, spare me your litany against my class, Lynley snapped.

He could have told her that he had indeed seen the movies, Peter had bought the DVDs and they had watched the trilogy together in Howenstow, but he didn't. Trying to persuade Barbara Havers that he was able to enjoy an evening spent watching a good film with his brother, like any other man, was a waste of time. At least, she had the good idea to change the subject and get back to the case at hand.

- I don't remember any of the rapists wearing an elf disguise on the video.

- The accessories make the disguise: pointed ears, bow and arrows. Remove them and you have a pretty neutral appearance.

- So we can't be sure Ethan wasn't among the rapists.

- No, we can't.

- I wonder…, she stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly unsure it was wise to go on.

- Yes?

She gulped and took the plunge:

- Did you say everything to your father?

- I beg your pardon?!

- Oh, don't give me THAT look! I'm not trying to meddle in your private life but I wonder if Ethan really says everything to his father, and, as my family was rather…dysfunctional…

Lynley considered the woman in front of him. Her plain face was distorted by the swelling of her eye and cheekbone, her outfit was even worse than usual but, as always, he could see behind all that her earnestness, her straightforwardness, all the things that made Barbara Havers precious to his heart. He had no reason to take offence at her question. There was no mystery about his relationship with his father. He had loved him with all his heart. There was nothing to hide, no dark secret. So why was it so hard to answer Barbara's question? He was struggling with the words, as was often the case when he had to open his heart to someone he hold dear. What had Barbara said? That her family was dysfunctional? But what about his own family? It was not exempt of fault and he wasn't too sure it was an example in terms of communication. Its members loved each other and took care of each other but they rarely shared their inner thoughts and were experts at hiding their true feelings. He didn't know if he could make Barbara understand but, at least, he could try.

- My father wasn't really interested in knowing the details of my life as a child or a teenager. He cared about me, of course, but…how can I explain?...my father was more interested in the education and upbringing of his children than in their personalities. He had a high opinion of his place in society, he was thoroughly convinced that his title, his family tree made him someone special…you'd have hated him at first sight…but he was also persuaded that all this came with some strong moral obligations: be true to his class; always be a perfect gentleman, in thoughts and in acts; take care of the estate and prepare the next generation to take up the torch. Especially me, who was the eldest son. I loved him, I'd have done anything to please him, to be like he wanted me to be but, even when he taught me how to ride, or how to sail, I think he trained the next earl of Asherton more than he raised his son. Did I tell him everything? No. Did he expect me to tell him everything? I don't think so. But if I had been in trouble, I could have come and told him and I've no doubt he would have done everything to help me, once he would have been sure I couldn't cope alone. I'm not sure this helps us with the case in hand, though.

- Maybe not but, anyway, thanks for sharing. If we believe the Richardsons when they say they have a close, no-taboo, father-and-son relationship, don't you think Ethan could have told his father about the video? All the more if Follett was beginning to sniff around Michael.

- Edward Richardson seems to be very proud of his success as a business man and he clearly hopes his son will succeed him at the head of his little empire. He seems to have planned everything from the training as a plumber up to the MBA. I don't think he has a plan B; all his hopes are on Ethan.

- And he told us himself, when his son's in trouble, he tells Daddy and Daddy sets everything right. And old Richardson seemed to know who Ethan's accomplice was: he clearly mentioned a boy.

- Exactly. If Ethan got wind of Follett's investigation of the video, and I've no doubt Michael Kurosawa told him he had been questioned by Follett, he may have taken fright. The broadcasting of the video is bad enough in itself but Ethan may have been afraid of what's on the video if he raped Carrie. I don't think he was very happy about Follett's interest in Carrie's suicide.

- If we trust the pathologist, and I see no reason why we shouldn't trust him, Ethan is too small to have inflicted the fatal blow to Follett but his father seems to be the right height.

- As about half the population of the country, I guess. Anyway, I want all the gen on Edward Richardson, it may be worth a look.

- Yes, Sir.

As she was stepping out of Lynley's office, Barbara nearly collided with Dorothea Harriman.

- Woops, sorry Dee.

- Excuse-me, Sergeant. The super gave me a message for the inspector.

- What message, Dee?, asked Lynley.

- Superintendent Ardery wants you to know that a Mr. Robert Jones has been arrested and brought in. He is currently being questioned.

- It worked! Barbara exclaimed enthusiastically. The trick with the bug worked! We got him!

- Hold your horses, Sergeant, Lynley tempered. We don't know if the arrest is based on something Jones said, and if it is we don't know what he said. Dee, do you know in which interview room Jones is?

- Interview room number 1, Inspector. The superintendent is questioning Mr. Jones with the help of DS Nkata.

- That's my case, Barbara cried out. I should be the one questioning him!

- Havers, the super knows what she's doing.

- She'll get nothing out of him by bowing and scraping...

- Barbara…

- …only strong-arm methods would do…

- Barbara!

- WHAT ! she snapped back. Then she realized who she was shouting at, and quickly subdued her tone: Sorry, Sir.

- I think Ardery knows exactly how to deal with Jones. And, don't forget you're under her command…

- How could I forget, she reminds me of it often enough…

- Have you quite finished? She surely didn't appreciate that someone assaulted a member of her team. She won't be soft on Jones. And Winston even less.

- Yeah…Barbara replied without conviction. But I'd rather have a look at how things are going, if you don't mind, Sir?

- Actually, I do mind, Sergeant.

Barbara was flabbergasted. She couldn't believe her ears. Her question had been purely rhetorical; she'd have never thought Lynley would refuse her the right to confront her attacker. Seeing her gaping in shock, Lynley drove the point home before she could object:

- You've got a murder case to work on and information to collect about a suspect. The superintendent is doing her job, do yours.

Barbara couldn't hide her frustration but she had no choice. Lynley was her partner and her friend but he was first and foremost her superior and she had to obey him. Grudgingly she returned to her desk.

Lynley watched her trudge along the corridor. He knew she was mad at him and he didn't like that. Neither did he like to reprimand her or to have to remind her that he outranked her but, given the sturdy character of Barbara Havers, it sometimes was the only way to have her toe the line. He trusted Isabelle Ardery to conduct the interview of Robbie Jones. The woman was clever and highly competent. And she knew the case well, as he had found out the day before when he had briefed her on the latest developments. Her relevant questions and her wise comments had proven she was following the case closely. And should she need some support, Lynley reasoned, she could rely on Winston Nkata who knew as much about the case as himself or Havers. However, he wondered why the superintendent had acted so quickly. She surely could have waited for the interview of the Richardsons to be finished so he could have questioned Jones with her. He thought about several reasons but none seemed satisfying enough. He ended up with the unpleasant feeling that Ardery was deliberately keeping him away from Jones for the same reason he was keeping Barbara away from him: because she didn't trust his reaction in front of the man who had beaten his partner up. On the other hand, it was not likely that Winston was very well-disposed towards the man. Could it possibly be that Ardery had more confidence in Winston's self-control than in his own? He knew anything that could jeopardize the case had to be avoided, and losing one's temper when questioning a suspect wasn't advisable. To be efficient, a good police officer had to stand back and stay detached to keep an open mind. It was usually more easily said than done, especially for him, he had to admit, who had a natural proclivity to empathy. It sometimes blurred his judgment, and if his fit of rage at Whickam's was any indication, maybe it was true he wasn't able to confront Jones with all due restraint. Still he was dying to know which result their little stratagem had brought. Had Jones admitted assaulting Havers or had he talked about Follett? Maybe he could contact the officer who had listened in on Jones? He was reaching for his phone when it rang. It was a lab technician. And the news was good.

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There was a uniform standing guard in front of interview room number 1. Lynley nodded to him and peeked through the spyhole of the door. The first thing he noticed was Jones' nose. It was red and swollen. Barbara had been right: she had indeed broken the nose of one of her assailants. She had also given some powerful punches that had left several dark bruises on Jones' ruddy face. Lynley felt a sense of pride warm his chest: his partner really was an outstanding woman. He knocked on the door and opened it.

- Guv'?

- Well, if it isn't my old pal Charming!, Jones cried out.

Lynley ignored the sarcastic remark but the blood in his veins boiled when he saw the marks on Jones' knuckles. He knew only too well who those fists have punched. Suddenly he realized that his own fists were clenched and he had to admit Ardery had been right to prefer Nkata to him for this interview. He turned his gaze to Ardery and managed to talk in a steady voice:

- Guv', I'm awfully sorry to disturb you, but if you could spare me a few minutes. It's important.

Ardery gestured to Nkata to stop the recording and she followed Lynley out of the room.

- Thomas, I'm in the middle of a questioning, she said in a reproachful tone.

- I know but the lab's just called me. They have some preliminary results from the samples they took where Barbara had been assaulted. As the victim was a copper they've worked twice as hard and they can confirm that the blood found at the scene is Jones'.

- Maybe he had a nosebleed…

Ardery was playing devil's advocate but he had a card up his sleeve to counter her:

- Maybe but one of the crime-of-scene boys had had the good idea to clean Barbara's nails before the ambulance took her to the hospital. There were some epithelial cells in the sample.

- Skin?

- Jones' skin. The lab used a streamlined method to get a result quickly but they're absolutely sure it's Jones'. They are now running a state-of-the-art analysis so that their conclusion will be indisputable in court.

- Perfect! Thomas, be a love, thank the lab on my behalf.

- I think DS Havers will be happy to see to that. How's it going?, he asked, pointing at the closed door of the interview room.

- Mr. Jones is a racist and a misogynous moron so it goes extremely well as you can imagine. We now have some serious evidence of Jones' participation in the assault on your teacher. Apparently Jones loves to boast about his "nigger-bashing", to use his own words. I must say I'm impressed by DS Nkata's self-control. He seems very detached but I think he's dying to be left alone with Jones, if only for a few minutes.

- Winston's a good copper. He knows it would ruin the case against Jones.

- Exactly. No matter how hard it is to keep a cool head, it is absolutely necessary that everyone abide by the procedure in the most professional way, Ardery stated, staring at him intently.

He got the message loud and clear. It was simple enough: one needed only to replace "everyone" by "DS Havers and you". He was on slippery ground so he changed the subject:

- Is Jones cooperating?

- Surprisingly, yes. It was a bit difficult at the beginning but we've got on tape what amounts to a confession of the attack on Follett, a man who's been murdered less than a week after his bad encounter with Jones. Given Jones' already long police record his lawyer has advised him to cooperate. Now he's talking at length about the fraud he's involved in. He's hoping to be granted immunity from prosecution for his testimony against the leaders of the network. But he denies fiercely being Follett's murderer. He says he only wanted to scare the man out of the awareness campaign. As an alibi for the night of the murder, he says he was with a prostitute until two o'clock. He says he's a regular of the girl. It shouldn't be too difficult to check.

- Nothing about Havers?

- Not yet.

The superintendent smiled at Lynley, and went on:

- I don't understand how he can possibly imagine we won't be able to prove he attacked Barbara. He's as thick as a brick. Anyway, with the help of the lab experts, he'll be convicted of assault on a police officer on top of all his crimes. I've no doubt Mr. Jones will spent many years behind bars. Today is one of the days I really love my job, Thomas.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lynley walked with a spring in his step towards the office Barbara was sharing with the other sergeants and constables of the CID. He hoped the good news would act as an olive branch. To take no chances he stopped by the vending machine and bought a chocolate bar. The tactic was truly contemptible and he wasn't proud of himself but desperate times called for desperate measures. When the case would be solved, he'd find a nicer way to show Barbara how much he enjoyed their partnership. There was this new Italian restaurant Simon and Deborah had talked about…

Barbara was on the phone with Richardson's bank. The financial assistant was already on the phone with a customer and the operator had put her on hold. That was almost ten minutes before and the easy-listening version of Vivaldi's Four Seasons was driving her mad. She felt like screaming to vent her anger. But a cigarette would do just fine as well. Or a chocolate bar. So when the latter landed on her desk, Barbara Havers nearly thought her prayers had been answered. Except that, to her knowledge, God didn't wear a three-piece suit.

- You can read my mind now?

- God forbid…I've got some good news.

Barbara raised her hand to silence him. She spoke several minutes with the banker who, reluctantly, agreed to provide Richardson's bank statement. She hung up, unwrapped the chocolate bar and bit into it.

- No coffee to go with it?, she asked with her mouth full.

- Don't push your luck.

Lynley told her what the lab and the superintendent had told him. Barbara felt a sense of relief.

- We got him, Barbara, there's no way for him to avoid the conviction. And the fact that he attacked a police officer being an aggravating circumstance, Josh and his family are rid of him for a long time.

- That's excellent news, Sir. Thanks.

- Thank the superintendent instead. And the lab technicians. They pulled out all the stops on your case. We don't often get results so quickly.

- Noted. Shall I bring chocolates or macaroons?

- If it's macaroons, I demand a pre-emptive right.

- Macaroons it is then.

- Save me the raspberry ones.

- Now you're pushing your luck.

They smiled at each other, their complicity restored.

An internal courier broke the magic of the moment by dumping a manila envelope on Barbara's desk. She reached for it, opened it, took out documents that looked like lists to Lynley, and gave a sigh of satisfaction.

- At last! That's the list of Follett's phone calls.

She skimmed through the sheets, frowning.

- It covers the last three months. And I've only phone numbers, no names. It'll take quite some time to identify the owners of all these numbers.

- I doubt we're interested by the phone calls of three-month ago. If Follett had a rendez-vous at the King's arms, the appointment was surely made, at the maximum, only a few days before his death.

- Maybe it was a recurring meeting.

- In this case, the landlord will be able to tell DC Richmond who Follett was meeting. I'll give this list to DC Martin. Stay focussed on Richardson.