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was a big man in his forties with no spare flesh, a gingery moustache and widely spaced blue eyes.
    ‘It’s all right, I understand,’ she said.
    You don’t , Garrett thought, yet … Lyn Harvey was there with him.
    ‘I have more bad news for you, I’m afraid,’ he said.
    She stiffened and her brow creased as she wondered what more there could possibly be.
    ‘There’s a possibility, a strong possibility, that your husband was killed deliberately, murdered.’
    Her mouth opened, then contracted to a tiny O before she closed her eyes and silently began crying again. Her daughter put her arms around her shoulders, then looked up.
    ‘Are you sure, Superintendent?’
    ‘Not absolutely, no, but it is, as I said, a very strong possibility.’
    ‘But my father didn’t have any enemies… there was no one who would have wanted to…’ She tailed off.
    ‘That’s what I need to ask your mother about, anyone with a personal grudge… and of course anyone who stands to gain by his death. Anything, no matter how tenuous.’
    Barbara Somersby had regained control of herself and wiped her eyes. ‘The only person who stands to gain financially is myself, Superintendent,’ she said. Her fair hair was going grey and her blue eyes were faded, but the strong bone structure of her face gave it a dignity that Garrett would have sworn was genuine.
    ‘That wasn’t what I had in mind, madam.’ Necessarily … ‘Did anyone have a grudge against him where he worked?’
    She thought about this and he waited. At last:
    ‘You said, no matter how tenuous…?’
    He nodded. ‘I did.’
    ‘The only thing I can think of, and it is tenuous, is a dispute he had with his colleagues a few months ago.’
    She told him about Ian and Connie, Parc-Reed and Alkovin. ‘But I must emphasise, Superintendent, that it was a professional disagreement between colleagues and I’m sure that Dr Saunders and Dr Flint had accepted the situation.’
    ‘Your husband was their superior?’
    ‘Yes, in effect.’
    ‘And his decision was final?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Garrett discreetly nibbled his thumbnail a moment. ‘Are either of them likely to… take over from your husband?’
    ‘Ian Saunders might, although they could just as easily appoint someone from outside.’
    ‘Not Dr Flint?’
    ‘It’s possible, although less likely. She’s a woman, Superintendent.’
    ‘I didn’t think that was a barrier in medicine.’
    ‘Not perhaps quite as much as in your profession, no.’
    He couldn’t help glancing quickly at Lyn, whose expression remained studiously neutral.
    ‘So,’ he said, summing up, ‘Mr Leo Farleigh of Parc-Reed made the initial approach to Drs Saunders and Flint, they tried to persuade your husband to give the drug a trial, but he’d heard rumours that it had side-effects and refused?’
    ‘Yes. He was always very cautious where new drugs were concerned. He could remember Thalidomide, you see.’
    He asked her whether Somersby had been regular in the days he had gone to the pub.
    ‘He usually went on Friday, but not Monday as a rule.’
    ‘So why this Monday?’
    ‘He was asked to fill in for someone in a skittles match.’ She smiled, sadly. ‘He enjoyed simple pleasures, Superintendent.’
    ‘When was this, Mrs Somersby? When did he know he was going to play skittles on Monday?’
    She made a mouth. ‘Sunday evening, I think – yes, I’m sure it was.’
    ‘Did any of his colleagues know?’
    ‘I don’t think – wait… He did tell me that Ian Saunders had wanted to swap on-call with him…’
    *
    ‘Good Lord!’ was Ian’s reaction when Garrett told him Somersby might have been murdered. ‘But he didn’t have any enemies…’
    They were in Garrett’s office at the police station. ‘You mean, none that you know of, sir,’ Garrett said.
    Ian shrugged and smiled. ‘I suppose that’s right.’
    When had he last seen him? Garrett asked. – When he left the lab on the afternoon of his death.
    Had he seemed worried