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die from their wounds in hospital, from fever, but not this. Not in a peaceful spa town, in a shop doorway.
    I dared to look into the car for the lurking murderer. There was no one. In the gutter, near the rear wheel, lay some small glinting item. I bobbed down. It was a cufflink. Evidence. What a marvel our minds are that we can feel and think in so many ways at once. The world threatened to spin away from me. I walked back up the alley. My and Meriel’s bags were still where she had dropped them. I sat on mine.
    I am not going to faint. Head between knees. What if he comes up behind me? I won’t faint. I don’t faint.
    After what seemed an age, Meriel and the doorman appeared. I called to them. ‘Stay clear of the doorway. The police will want to examine the scene.’
    The doorman peered at Milner’s body. Then the three of us walked to the road and waited.
    A uniformed sergeant and police constable arrived first, striding into view like two creatures from the underworld, everything black, including their jackets with the night buttons. The constable was the younger of the two, pale-faced, clean-shaven and gangly. The older man wore a small neat moustache, and walked with his feet turned out. The sergeant strode into the alley. As we were giving our names and addresses to the constable, I heard the sound of hooves. A pony and trap came into view and drew to a halt. A portly figure, in top hat and tail coat, stepped onto the pavement.
    ‘Evening, doctor.’ The constable produced a flashlight, and led the doctor into the alley. I felt a sudden moment of panic. What if Milner had not been dead? Perhaps I had made a mistake. Immediate attention might have saved him.
    Their slow, returning footsteps gave no sign of urgency.
    The medical man’s breath smelled of whisky. He took out a tiny notebook and pencil from an inside pocket. ‘Can you tell me what time you saw the deceased, madam?’
    I felt foolish at not having checked my watch. ‘We stopped to sort out an umbrella,’ I said lamely.
    ‘It was about half past eleven,’ Meriel supplied. ‘Mr Milner was still warm. You said so, didn’t you, Kate? Mrs Shackleton was a nurse. She checked for a pulse.’
    The doctor jotted down the time.
    Meriel let out a shuddering groan. ‘I can’t bear it. Poor man. I suppose the only consolation is that he saw a good play before he died.’
    ‘Do you think she’s in shock?’ the doctor asked quietly.
    I was grateful that he did not seem to notice I had begun to shake again. In as calm a voice as I could muster, I said, ‘Probably.’
    The sergeant commandeered the pony and trap, leaving the constable to guard the scene.
    ‘Are you taking us home?’ Meriel asked as he helped us into the trap.
    The sergeant spoke to the driver: ‘Raglan Street!’
    ‘I live on St Clement’s Road . . .’ Meriel began.
    ‘If it’s all the same to you, ladies,’ the sergeant said in a gentle voice, ‘I’d like to take you to the station and give you a cup of tea.’

  
     
    ‘Shocking business for you ladies.’ The elderly sergeant led us into a bleak room at the back of the police station. We sat on benches, at a table marked with cigarette burns and tea stains.
    ‘You are shivering.’ He placed an old army blanket around my shoulders.
    Meriel squeezed my hand. ‘Kate is the brave one. She stayed by the body.’
    I envied Meriel in that moment. She seemed to have detached herself from what had happened, as though finding the body had become one more made up scene, an epilogue to her production.
    The constable disappeared, returning with thick white cups of strong sweet tea. Shakily, I delved into my satchel for Gerald’s old hip flask. How I wished Gerald could be here now.
    I unscrewed the top of the flask. There was a decent amount of brandy – enough for a good splash in each of our cups.
Here’s to you, Gerald, wherever you are. Lost in this world, or the next. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, one day, you just walked