Lucien went to the police station to speak with Nancy Donnelly, dreading and anticipating the encounter in equal measure. Jean's words echoed in his head, cautioning him to not let his personal feelings, whatever they may be, get in the way of figuring out who murdered Reggie Wallace. He assured her it wouldn't be a problem. After all, he didn't even know the woman. And she wasn't a part of Matthew's life anymore. Lucien knew her only as a murder suspect who just happened to have once been married to his best friend. Simple as that. He was there to get answers about the investigation, nothing more.

"Ms. Donnelly, I'm Doctor Lucien Blake. I'm the police surgeon. I understand you didn't sleep last night. I was wondering if I might be of some help," he offered kindly as he approached the cell.

Nancy stood up from the cot and tried her best to press back the hair falling loose on her head. "I did have some trouble last night, yes, but I should be past it now. I would be pleased to bathe properly and get a change of clothes."

Her stern patrician tone caused him to falter slightly. Clearly she'd gotten over her shock from the day before. This was hardly the same woman who had fallen mute and meek at the crime scene. "I…I'm afraid I can't help much with that, Ms. Donnelly."

She shrugged. "Pity."

Lucien changed tacks. "I was also hoping that you might be able to answer some questions for me, though. About Reggie Wallace."

"I don't know who killed him. It wasn't me. I did not see anyone. I don't know anyone who would want him dead."

He was taken aback by the rapid-fire answers to every question he was about to ask. Every question but one. "Then can you tell me what you do know? What you saw and how you discovered Reggie with a knife in his belly?"

Nancy Donnelly's mask of strength fell away for a moment, but Lucien blinked and it was back. She squared her shoulders and explained, "Reggie and I were arguing. We argued quite a lot. He was often impulsive and secretive, a combination that I quite liked in a man I was involved with but also led me to significant frustration."

The snobbery of the woman came off her in waves. Lucien disliked her immediately. And perhaps that was what caused him to forget himself and ignore Jean's warning and interrupt. "Ms. Donnelly, have you ever been married?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Have you ever been married?" he asked again.

She was clearly confused by the abrupt conversation shift. "Why…yes. Is that related somehow? My ex-husband has nothing to do with this."

"He was on the bus from Melbourne with you yesterday morning," Lucien informed her, feeling the heat rise inside him.

"Matthew was there? I didn't see him."

"He saw you."

Her brow furrowed rather dangerously. "And what of it? Is Matthew now trying to frame me for murder?"

"Matthew Lawson is a good man," Lucien snarled.

The laughing scoff that fell from her lips made Lucien's blood boil. And instead of arguing with the woman, who clearly wasn't one to speak about with such things, Lucien turned and stormed out of the police station, slamming the door behind him. Nancy Donnelly's shrill laugh kept ringing in his ears.

Jean was in the kitchen polishing some silver when Lucien came barging in. "That woman!" he shouted, practically flinging himself into a chair at the table and putting his head in his hands.

"Ah. I see Nancy's feeling back to herself," she interpreted.

Lucien raised his head. "I thought you said you didn't know her."

"Well, not too personally. But we went to school together. And she's been utterly horrid since I was a child." Jean hoped Lucien wouldn't ask any more questions about her past with Nancy Donnelly, as Jean had no intention of explaining any further. "So what did she say?"

"Not much. Just that she didn't do it and she didn't see who did."

"Well, what did she see? The shopkeeper heard shouting and the next thing anyone knows, she's pulling a knife from his stomach and screaming."

Lucien felt extremely foolish. "I didn't…"

"You didn't ask her?"

"I did, but I may have distracted her from the answer."

"Lucien!" Jean scolded. "You let your personal feelings get in the way, didn't you?"

He sighed, "I honestly didn't think I would have any personal feelings."

"Who brought up Matthew, you or Nancy?"

"I did."

"Why?"

Lucien scrubbed his face with his hands and rested his elbows on the kitchen table. "I don't quite know, actually."

A knock at the door saved them from the agony of that conversation. "You've got patients to see," Jean reminded him. She quickly washed her hands and went to answer the door.

The rest of the afternoon was taken up in the surgery. Lucien had gotten the year's influenza vaccines delivered the week before and his at-risk patients, mostly the elderly, had been coming in to receive the injection.

Lucien was rather exhausted by the time he sent his last patient home and washed up for dinner. Jean was still a bit annoyed at him for thoroughly botching the investigation. She focused her attention on Charlie during the meal.

"Have you looked into Reggie Wallace?" she asked. "Figured out what he was doing in Ballarat?"

"Something to do with his business," Charlie told her in between bites of roasted lamb. "He had meetings with people all over town during the week, but obviously with his untimely death, no one got to see him. Most of what we've found out so far was that he was looking to invest."

Jean frowned. "Invest in what? And why Ballarat? Was it because Nancy's from here?"

"No one seems to know. I interviewed everyone in his appointment book. They all told the same story. Wallace had contacted them by letter to set the appointments and explained only that he was looking for business opportunities and he'd explain more when they met," Charlie said.

"I see," Jean replied, her eyes unfocused as she let the information wash over her mind. Lucien wasn't paying proper attention to this case, and Jean knew that was when she could be of most help to him.

When they'd finished eating, she began to clear the table. Lucien stood up to help her but she stopped him in his tracks.

"Take that new bottle of scotch and go see Matthew," she instructed.

"Right now?"

"Yes," Jean insisted. "You're not going to be able to concentrate until you can get all the answers you're looking for about this whole mess. And I know he doesn't like to talk about it, but maybe when you finish the bottle, he'll be more receptive."

Lucien smiled and kissed her cheek before taking the bottle from the bar cart and heading out to see his friend.

Jean, meanwhile, asked Charlie if he might take her to the station to have a talk with Nancy Donnelly. "Woman to woman. I'm sure being in a jail cell is very frightening. Actually, I know it's very frightening, considering you arrested me last year," she reminded him. After all, a little guilt never hurt in persuading someone for their assistance.

"Yeah, alright," Charlie conceded. "But we can't stay long. I'm not on duty."

Half an hour later, Lucien was sitting on the porch of Vera Anderson's house with Matthew Lawson and a bottle of scotch. They were making polite conversation over their first glass before they fell quiet and looked out into the dark night before them.

"Have you heard what happened yesterday after lunch?" Lucien asked, breaking the silence between them.

Matthew nodded. "Vera showed me the newspaper this morning. She had quite a few words to say. Words I've never heard my sister say, mind you."

Lucien chuckled. "I don't suppose you'll repeat them?"

"Not till I've had more of this," he replied, pouring himself another glass of scotch. "Is that why you're here? Nancy?"

"I suppose so, yes. Though I always like an excuse for a drink with you, Matthew."

He sighed. "Alright, ask me whatever you want to know."

"Well, unlike many other people in town, I don't know a thing about this woman. Especially not her history with you. I'll confess I can't quite see her as your wife."

Matthew laughed humorlessly. "You spoke to her then, did you?"

"Yes. It didn't go very well," Lucien replied delicately.

"I don't imagine it would. Horrible woman."

"That was my impression as well. Whatever compelled you to marry her? Was it…?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't have to marry her, if that's what you're getting at. No family way, thank goodness. Wouldn't have wanted a child with her. I was just young and bloody stupid. I thought I loved her. And I thought that's what you did when you loved a girl. You ask her father if you could marry her. So that's what I did." Matthew sighed and took another sip of his drink. "She was really lovely back then. Just barely twenty when I proposed. Bright blonde hair, intelligent eyes, the most beautiful mouth. And I liked that she was so strong-willed. I've never seen the appeal in a meek woman who parades around trying to be subservient and perfect. Nancy's always been opinionated and devilishly clever and never afraid to show it. And I thought I loved her."

Lucien stayed quiet and allowed Matthew his walk down memory lane. It was fascinating to hear.

"I couldn't afford much of a ring. And her parents weren't any better off than mine, so the wedding was small and simple. We had our honeymoon on the beach in Geelong. She complained practically the whole time. The sun was too hot, the hotel was rundown, the room was too small, the meals were cheap. I dunno what she expected, she knew who I was and what I could give her. I never put on airs or tried to show off at all. You knew me then, Lucien, and you know me now. Not one for finery and all that."

"No, never," Lucien agreed approvingly.

"Nancy always wanted more than what I could give her. I think she thought I could be promoted through the ranks quickly, that I'd end up a commanding officer and she could go to fancy state police events on my arm. Whatever it was, she made it very clear as often as possible that I wasn't good enough for her, that I disappointed her each and every day. And I was younger than Charlie Davis, then. I didn't know how to make her happy. I eventually just told her that she should go out on her own if I wasn't able to take her where she wanted to go all the time. I guess she took that to mean that she could go to bed with other men and then pack a case and take the bus to Melbourne. You know she didn't even tell me where she was going? Just left a note saying she was leaving and I shouldn't bother trying to find her."

"Oh Matthew, I'm so sorry."

He downed his scotch and finished his tale. "Her mother was kind enough to tell me that she'd gone away and wasn't coming back. But even she wouldn't tell me where Nancy had gone. I think they thought I'd run after her. As though I wanted a wife who didn't want me. It wasn't for another nine months that Nancy finally sent me a letter asking me to petition for divorce so we could be free of each other. That seemed as good a plan as any, so I put together the application, saying that I was the one who sent her away, that I was the deserter. With my affidavit, there was no need for Nancy to do anything except sign her name, and it was done."

Lucien quietly drank his scotch, thinking about Matthew's sad story. If ever a man deserved to have kindness and love, it was Matthew Lawson. Matthew was certainly more deserving than Lucien himself, and he'd been blessed beyond belief to have his Jean. But Lucien had long since learned that life very rarely brings people what they deserve. "You're a good man, Matthew Lawson," he said quietly.

Matthew just gave a small shrug. "Not sure how much that matters some of the time, but a man's character is all he's got some days."

"Too right."

The two men clinked their glasses together and returned to the quiet.