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canvassed, cafés and other shops visited, statements taken from everyone who was in the library, CCTV tapes scanned. The list went on, Brock listening in silence, occasionally nodding his approval, while Pip paid close attention, making notes. Finally Kathy came to her own requirements for the murder team. Three more detectives as a start, she thought, plus one additional to work with the City of Westminster police to organise the teams of uniforms, plus an Action Manager, Exhibits Officer and Statement Reader, plus a Rainbow Coordinator for the CCTV stuff.
    When she was finished, Brock said, ‘You’re right, that is what you need, plus someone to press your suit, because the media are going to be very interested in this one. But unfortunately I haven’t got anyone. No one at all. It’s just you and Pip, Kathy, I’m sorry.You’re on your own, at least till the end of the week. I’ll speak to Westminster police and make sure they do what they can for you. They can take care of the CCTV. And you can borrow Phil, part time, as Action Manager, to keep on top of your admin.’
    Kathy, taken aback, bit off the retort that came into her mind—that without a team there wouldn’t be any admin. Brock read her expression and nodded sympathetically. ‘Now, what about this boyfriend, if that’s where she’s been living? Why didn’t she want anyone to know? And why hasn’t he come forward? You’ve checked Missing Persons, I take it?’
    A small choking sound came from Pip’s corner of the desk. She darted a glance at Kathy. ‘Sorry, boss. Not yet.’
    Kathy bit her lip, then raised an eyebrow at Brock, meaning,
You see? I need people
.
    Brock appeared not to notice. ‘Surely there must have been someone, a student friend, a priest, a doctor, someone she would have confided in?’
    Kathy said, ‘I’d like to release her picture to the press, and a statement saying forensic tests indicate she was poisoned, and giving a general warning to the public to be alert. But I don’t want to say anything about arsenic at this stage, not until we find its source.’
    ‘What do we know about it? Does it have a taste? What does it look like?’
    ‘According to Sundeep it depends on the particular compound, but in general arsenic has very little taste, just a mild sweetness, comes as a white powder and can be made in a soluble form. It used to be deliberately contaminated with taste and colouring to stop it being taken accidentally.’
    ‘Used to be?’
    ‘In the days when it was publicly available. But now . . . well, I suppose we’d have to be looking at a laboratory of some kind, oras part of some industrial process. Sundeep’s first thought was that it might have been brought in from overseas.’
    ‘The terrorist angle.’
    ‘Yes. I haven’t had anything back on that yet.’
    They waited while Brock made the call to Westminster Borough Command, setting up a meeting for Kathy at West End Central police station, not far from St James’s Square. ‘They’ll take care of you, Kathy. They understand the situation. Get over there and get them organised.’
    She left Pip checking Missing Persons. ‘And I want her phone records, Pip,’ she said on her way out, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. ‘I want to know everyone she phoned in the past six months.’
    She decided to cut through St James’s Park, and had turned the car into Birdcage Walk when her phone rang. It was her friend Nicole Palmer from Criminal Records.
    ‘Hi, Kathy. Just wanted to tell you I’ve confirmed our bookings for this weekend.’
    ‘This weekend?’ Kathy groaned. ‘Oh no, I thought it was the one after.’ She’d completely forgotten about the trip they’d been planning to Prague. Nicole’s brother, a jazz guitarist, was appearing in a club there and had persuaded them to go. ‘It’s impossible, Nicole. I’ve got this case just blown up . . .’
    ‘You’ve always got some case just blown up. It’s only the weekend for