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cannot speak for him. I’ve told you.’
    Sidney was wondering where all this was leading but before they had finished what was intended to be a full interrogation Inspector Keating glanced at the clock and announced that he had to leave. He had an important meeting to attend. Sidney had assumed they would discuss matters informally in the pub and was therefore surprised by his friend’s imminent departure. As soon as they had left the room he asked Keating the obvious question. ‘Who are you going to see?’
    ‘Never you mind. In any case, it won’t take long.’ Keating smiled unconvincingly. ‘I’ll see you in the Eagle later on.’
    ‘But we haven’t finished the Benson interview . . .’
    ‘You get the pints in. I’ll worry about the investigation.’
     
    Sidney walked out of the police station and made his way towards Corpus to call in on some friends, but found himself waylaid by a chance encounter with the Inspector’s wife outside the butcher’s shop. Cathy Keating was a dark, handsome woman with a natural authority, taller than her husband, a fact only accentuated by her beehive hairdo, and cheekbones that were almost as high as her heels. Every time Sidney met her he was reminded both why his friend had so many children and, at the same time, why he spent so much time away from home. The woman was simultaneously attractive and terrifying.
    ‘I’m surprised that you’re so out and about after the recent murder, Canon Chambers. I would have thought you might want to stay indoors until the culprit is brought to justice.’
    ‘We cannot live in fear.’
    ‘And a low profile doesn’t really suit you, does it?’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘You like to be at the centre of things. Are you going my way?’
    ‘I’m not sure. I thought I’d look in at Corpus.’
    ‘Then I’ll walk with you to the end of Pembroke Street. Have you been seeing my husband again?’
    ‘I hope you don’t disapprove of our friendship?’
    ‘Of course not. He enjoys your company. It keeps him out of the house. Although I didn’t know you were now meeting him twice a week. Tuesdays as well as Thursdays.’
    Sidney was about to say, ‘I’m not’, when he realised what was going on. Geordie was expecting him to cover his meetings with Miss Randall. ‘Is that what he said?’
    ‘You mean you are not?’
    ‘I don’t think we had quite settled on making it a regular thing.’
    ‘Are you hiding something from me? What plans are you two cooking up?’
    ‘Nothing more than the usual.’
    ‘That’s often too much. I know about the journalist, if that’s what you’re worried about. I can tell she’s trouble and I’ve warned Geordie that I’ll change the locks and boot him out if there’s any nonsense.’
    ‘I don’t think it’ll ever come to that.’
    ‘He wouldn’t be so daft but I don’t like people talking .’
    ‘I understand, Mrs Keating.’
    ‘He says she’s helpful. I know he just likes being with a pretty girl. It’s hard when you’ve got three children and you feel yourself getting older. Sometimes I think I can’t keep up. Men assume they get more attractive as they get older. Perhaps it’s just a question of confidence. Some people find certainty alluring, don’t they?’
    ‘I suppose they do.’
    ‘But you’re not that confident, are you, Mr Chambers?’
    ‘I try to be so about my faith.’
    ‘But you are reluctant to judge. You like to give people the benefit of the doubt.’
    ‘I hope I do.’
    ‘And do you think the best of that girl? Tell me truly.’
    ‘I’m afraid I don’t.’
    ‘You don’t like her either?’
    ‘I’d rather not answer that question, if you don’t mind.’
    ‘That means you don’t. Will you tell him?’
    ‘I think it would be better if he found out for himself.’
    ‘I don’t want him making a fool of himself,’ Cathy continued.
    ‘Perhaps if we allow events to take their course, common sense will prevail. You see, this is a tricky