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was.’ He sniffed. ‘Not that it would have helped. Operator stayed on the line till he lost the signal. He’s still having counselling, apparently. They reckon he can’t go to sleep, not without hearing her screaming over the phone as she died.’ He met Alec’s gaze squarely, and Alec felt he was being tested, his reaction assessed. ‘Thankfully, the smoke got to her and she passed out before the flames took a real hold.’ Munroe’s voice was oddly soft. That softness somehow added emphasis to the horror of his words.
    â€˜It is a terrible way to die,’ Alec said. ‘I’ve always thought it must be one of the worst.’
    Parks emitted a soft grunt. Alec realized it was a stifled laugh. He let it go, not sure what to make of all this. Was it some test of machismo? Alec had little time for such displays and little patience with their practitioners.
    â€˜Is there a point to all this?’
    Eddison came through with mugs of tea clasped awkwardly in one ham fist and a handful of sugar packs in the other. Alec noted that they bore the name of a motorway service station.
    â€˜The point is,’ Eddison said, ‘that you worked the Robinson case and you also knew the dead woman. That makes you potentially very useful.’
    â€˜Knew,’ Alec emphasized. ‘I’d not spoken to Jamie in years, not properly. We exchanged Christmas and birthday cards, the odd email, but that was about the extent of it.’
    â€˜Which in Miss Dale’s world qualifies you and your wife as bosom buddies,’ Parks said. ‘She wasn’t what you’d call one for making friends.’
    â€˜My wife? What does—?’ He frowned. And that didn’t ring true about Jamie Dale either. The one thing she had always been was gregarious. He said so.
    Munroe shrugged. ‘People change,’ he said. ‘She dumped her last boyfriend two years ago. He says he still doesn’t know why. It was one of those “it’s not you, it’s me” conversations women seem to be good at and men don’t understand.’
    Parks grunted again; Alec assumed he was amused, in agreement or possibly both.
    â€˜He tried to get in touch a time or two, but she changed her number, moved away, let all her old friends know she wasn’t available. Finally, they stopped calling.’
    â€˜I didn’t know,’ Alec said. ‘That doesn’t sound anything like the Jamie we knew.’
    â€˜When did you last hear from her? Get the usual Christmas card, did you?’
    Alec thought about it and nodded. ‘Yes, she’d changed her address. We couldn’t remember when we’d sent her card, so we sent another one just to be sure she got it.’
    â€˜Say much, did she?’
    â€˜I don’t think so. Just the new address and some comment about getting together some time. I think that was about it.’
    â€˜And that was the usual sort of message?’ Eddison asked.
    Alec took a swallow of tea. It was too hot and went down hard, burning his throat. He tried to remember what that last card had said. And the ones before. Truth be told, he had taken very little notice. Naomi would know; he read the cards out to her, and she told him what to put by way of reply. Left to his own devices, Alec would probably not even have got around to buying Christmas cards, never mind writing them.
    â€˜I think she said that most years,’ he ventured. ‘You know, the sort of casual remark people make about getting together when they know it won’t happen.’
    â€˜And would you have minded if it had?’ This from Travers. The first contribution he had made to the conversation since they had arrived.
    Alec turned to look at his boss, wondering at the question. Would he have minded? ‘No,’ he said, ‘why should I mind? Naomi probably knew Jamie better than I did. Before Jamie left for London they used to meet up a couple of