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“It still sweats,” he said, crunching into a prawn cracker.
    They ate thoughtfully for a few minutes, then Jean said, “So where do we go from here?”
    Tayte picked up on the ‘we’ part straightaway.   He was going to do whatever it took to help the police find his friend’s killer but he figured he’d be doing it alone.
    “I intend to follow in Marcus’s footsteps if I can,” he said.   “You know, go through the same research.   It could bring his killer after me.   Could be dangerous.”
    “I know,” Jean said.   “But I can help.”
    Tayte didn’t doubt it.
    “I think I’m already involved,” Jean added.   “Whether I want to be or not.”
    She had Tayte there.   He drew a long breath and held it briefly while he thought it through.   “Okay,” he said.   “I had an idea to go to The National Archives first thing in the morning.   Marcus might have spoken to someone about what he was working on.   Maybe one of his old colleagues knows something.   We might even be able to pick up his research from the record logs.”
    “Great,” Jean said.   “I can give you a lift.”
    “On your scooter?”
    “Who said it was a scooter?”
    When the meal was finished they went back into the sitting room and sat together on the sofa.
    “You know you can stay here tonight if it’s easier,” Jean said.   Her cheeks flushed.   “I just meant we could get a head start on things tomorrow, that’s all.”
    “I didn’t really come prepared,” Tayte said.   He could see there was no hidden reason for her asking.   No romantic agenda.
    “My son always leaves a few things here,” Jean said.   “I’ve got a new toothbrush you can have and -”   She paused and tested the sofa with her palm.   “I’m sure it’s comfy.”
    It was clear to Tayte that Jean didn’t want to be alone tonight and he was flattered, even if it was just for the company, but he couldn’t stay.
    “I expect I can find you a clean T-shirt,” Jean continued.   “Elliot’s into the baggy look.   There must be something you can squeeze into.   Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”
    Tayte smiled.   “That’s okay.   No offence taken.”
    There was an edge of desperation to her tone that he found hard to refuse, but he knew it wouldn’t work.   He liked his own space.   It was all he was used to.
    “I’d appreciate the company,” Jean added, confirming his thoughts.
    Tayte fidgeted.   “Look, Jean.   I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”
    “Okay, that’s fine,” she said, forcing a smile that was easy to see through.
    “So how old’s your son?” Tayte asked.
    “Twenty.”   Jean laughed.   “Going on twelve most of the time.”
    Tayte laughed with her as though he knew exactly what she meant, but while a part of him thought it would be good to know what it was like to watch your child grow through adolescence, he really had no idea and doubted he ever would.   It didn’t really bother him.   It was just curiosity.
    “So you must have been married a while,” he said.
    “Twenty-one years.   We were keen to start a family straightaway.   We had big plans but I didn’t want to go through it again.   Some mothers take to it better than others, I suppose.   I don’t think Daniel - that’s Elliot’s father - was ever happy about that.   I found out that he’d been seeing other women for several years and he must have finally found someone he wanted to settle down with or I suppose it would have gone on longer.”
    “What a rat,” Tayte said.
    Jean agreed.
    “So that’s where Elliot is tonight?”
    “No, he was supposed to be here.   I think he’s staying with friends.   He often does.”
    “You think ?” Tayte said.
    Jean sighed.   “If I’m honest with myself we don’t get on that well.   Communication’s not a strong point.   He’s always been closer to his father and it’s been worse since the breakup.”   She stood up.   “Do you fancy a hot