“Nowhere at all,” said Mr Campion cheerfully, his pale eyes belying his tone.
Oates grunted.
“It takes us to you, mate,” he said bluntly. “It takes us back to you and your pals, and you know that better than anyone. We’ve got to go over that girl’s immediate past with a magnifying glass and we’ve got to have a chat with everyone who knew her. It’s the motive that’s going to put us on to our man and that’s what we’re after. That’s plain speaking, isn’t it?”
“Almost homely,” agreed Mr Campion absently. “I’ve told you all I can, I think. There’s one trivial little thing which may be interesting. It’s only an impression but they’re sometimes useful. I don’t think she was alone when she phoned me yesterday.”
“An accomplice?”
“I don’t know. An audience, anyway. She hadn’t her entire mind on
