Lewis and Maddox caught up with Dorothy Descombes, the ex-wife and ex-bridal boutique employee, at her home. As they approached the house, they saw a poodle glaring at them from an upstairs window. They knocked at the door which was opened by Dorothy, who wore a nurse's uniform and sensible shoes.

"I had trained as a nurse back before I met Sébastien. He swept me off my feet and the rest is history. After the children started school, I went to work in his sister's shop. You've got to dress all posh in the boutique to make sales, and I was still a pretty little thing back then. Now look at me. It's not pretty, but I'm happier making my own way," she said a bit defensively.

"Me daughter's a nurse too. I think it's a noble profession," affirmed Lewis, disarming her with his everyman charm so that he could ask the necessary question.

"Can you account for your whereabouts on the night Anne-Sophie was murdered?"

"No, I was home alone. Not exactly, though, was I? My son Julien was there, but he was stoned out of his mind. Probably shouldn't admit that to the police."

"Don't worry; that's not my concern," Lewis offered. "Did you know that Anne-Sophie was pregnant?"

"Was she? No, I didn't know. But that explains why Sébastien was going to marry her. I was wondering about that, given that home life made him so miserable."

Lewis looked at her, beseeching an explanation.

"We were happy for a time, and then the children came. We have two boys. They both struggled in school and were difficult at home. Sébastien couldn't cope with them, and he started spending less and less time at home. Julien, our oldest, was hoping to be a professional footballer until he injured himself pretty badly. He started the marijuana after that. I hope it's just a phase. Antoine, our younger son, has always been more of a handful. But I'm sure you already know that, as he's had a few run ins with your lot. He's harmless, though. Just a bit of a little thief."

Lewis nodded as if he had known that the son had form. Maddox knew she'd be checking that out momentarily.

"Does Sébastien have contact with the boys- young men, as it were?"

"Yes, they both work in his restaurant, waiting tables or washing dishes- whatever needs doing. But the cooking he leaves to himself or his sous-chefs. I hope that one day Sébastien will involve the boys in the business aspect of the restaurant. I just don't know what their futures hold if not."

"I think that all parents feel that way some times," said Lewis. "I had a bit of trouble with me own boy, back in the day, but he came out all right in the end."

"You're very understanding for a policeman," Dorothy said. "I'm afraid I've got to go work my shift now, though. "

"One last question, ma'am. Do you think that your ex-husband could have killed Anne-Sophie, if he was as miserable as you say being part of a family?"

"I honestly don't know. He certainly had a temper with the boys, and he was a cheating and deceitful bastard. But he wasn't violent- not like that. I don't know how it was with Anne-Sophie."

Laura Hobson was on her second raspberry lambic when Lewis arrived at la Brasserie Belge. "I'm sorry, love. Maddox and I got caught up in the case."

"I know, Robbie. Lizzie sent a very apologetic text." Hobson said, rolling her eyes a bit at Lewis.

"Thoughtful sergeant she is, our Lizzie. I am sorry to make you wait though. You look lovely. Can I get us a bottle?"

"Mmm, let's stick to the beer tonight, Robbie. It's quite good. I was just sitting here reminiscing about a trip I once took to Bruges with my girlfriends from uni." Lewis sat back and smiled; he much preferred beer to wine anyway. Hobson rambled on for a bit about scenic canals and wanting to travel with him. This was perhaps what he loved best about Hobson: she always had plans for him, even if they didn't always come to fruition.

Lewis looked over the menu. "Crikey, at these prices, this better be the best damn moules-frites I've ever had in my life."

"Of course you would go for the main course that comes with chips," Hobson teased.

"What, it's a Belgian specialty!" said Lewis in mock indignation.

Hobson herself enjoyed a carbonnade which she got Lewis to try as well. The two of them appreciated the time away from the case- and any night that they didn't have to cook. "We should do this more often, Robbie." Hobson said as she brushed his leg gently with her feet under the table.

"I agree, love." He caught the server's eye, though, and apologized to Hobson. "I'm sorry, love. You know what I have to do."

The server approached and Lewis ordered coffee and speculoos for them, then made a request. "I need to see Sébastien Descombes. I was assured he'd be here tonight."

"Monsieur Descombes is incredibly busy," said the server.

Lewis took out his badge. "I'm afraid it's quite important." The server nodded and hurried off.

When Sébastien Descombes approached the table, Lewis motioned for him to sit down.

"I'm DI Lewis and this is…"

Descombes interrupted. "And you're going to insult me with your questions in front of your…"

But Lewis cut him off in turn. "The forensic pathologist, Dr. Hobson. She attended Anne-Sophie's death."

Hobson did not like to be belittled. "Have you noticed any knives gone missing from your kitchen? I have examined her stab wounds and would expect the murder weapon to be a professional grade chef's blade."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Descombes said, and reluctantly took a seat. "No, to answer your question. I haven't noticed any missing knives. But I haven't been counting them either." Hobson raised her eyebrows. She decided that she liked interrogating suspects, if only to make them squirm. Maybe I should tag along on Robbie's investigations more often…

Lewis asked him all the whens and wheres, which Descombes answered with contempt.

Lewis continued to dig at him. "You must have been happy that Anne-Sophie was expecting?" It was a statement that turned into a question.

Descombes scowled. "How would you like it if your much younger… forensic pathologist or whatever you call your significant other… fell pregnant, long after you thought those days were past? "

Hobson interjected, "That would never happen because as a medical professional I take contraception seriously." Her tone was offended, but secretly she enjoyed the comparison to the nubile twenty-five year old student.

Lewis refocused the conversation. "You haven't answered my question."

"Overjoyed isn't the word," Descombes admitted, "but I certainly wouldn't kill her. Do you know how much money I've already plunked down towards this wedding?"

"I'm not convinced that you loved her at all, let alone loved her enough to spend the rest of your life with her." Lewis intimated.

Descombes was piqued. "I want you to leave my restaurant tout de suite."

"When I am done with my biscuit," replied Lewis, and he took a bite from his speculoos.

"You cheeky sod," Hobson chuckled after Descombes had walked away.

Lewis let go of Hobson's hand just long enough to turn the key to their home. Once the door was shut, Hobson turned to Lewis and started to undo his tie. He kissed her, and his hands began to caress her form.

"Before you get too carried away, Robbie, I'd rather like a neck and shoulder rub," Hobson said whilst leading him by the tie to the couch. "I've spent all day hunched over a mangled corpse."

"Mmm," moaned Lewis, as if the mention of 'mangled corpse' might be an aphrodisiac. "I think I can do that."

Hobson sat between his legs and he began to rub her shoulders, planting a kiss or two on her neck as well. She unbuttoned her blouse then leaned forward to remove it. Lewis was as excited as ever to knead her warm flesh in his palms. He sighed deeply thinking about what should come next.

But what came next was a call to Lewis' mobile. He tilted his waist forward to extract the mobile from his pocket, and then threw it across the room.