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mid-evening and leaving us alone together – me andthe other witness. Simon would hate the thought of Sam and me gossiping about him.’
    â€˜Stepford doesn’t gossip,’ said Gibbs.
    â€˜Maybe not normally, but he would with me, especially after a few drinks. And he’d tell himself he wasn’t gossiping, just
discussing
, you know how people do.’
    â€˜You reckon I was chosen because I don’t gossip?’
    â€˜Gossip?’ Olivia chuckled. ‘You barely speak. You make a point of saying as little as possible. Anyway, no, that was only my first theory.’ She sipped her drink. ‘My second was that Simon ruled Sam out on the grounds of his superior rank – asking his skipper to be a witness at his wedding might have looked like sucking up, even though it wouldn’t have been – Simon’s the least suck-up-y person I’ve ever known, and he’d hate for anyone to think otherwise.’
    So Sellers was a non-starter and Stepford was a non-starter. Which had left only Gibbs.
    â€˜Then I decided – my third theory – that Simon chose you because he has more respect for you than he has for Sam, even if he thinks Sam’s
nicer
. He thinks you’re more intelligent. Or more like him, maybe. You’re a puzzle, whereas Sam’s an open book.’
    Gibbs couldn’t understand why she cared. She seemed to have given it as much thought as he had, and made more progress: three answers to his none.
    â€˜I couldn’t bear the suspense, so I made Charlie ask him,’ she said.
    Gibbs’ hand tightened around his glass. ‘And?’
    â€˜Simon told her he feels closer to you than to Colin or Sam.’ Olivia laughed. ‘Which I thought was
just
hilarious, given that I bet the two of you have never had a single conversation about anything other than work.’
    â€˜We haven’t,’ Gibbs confirmed. He downed the rest of his drink and went to pour himself another one, unwilling to notice or reflect on the sudden improvement in his mood. ‘If you’re so keen on talking, why don’t you tell me where the happy couple are?’ he said. ‘I’m not going to give the game away to Waterhouse’s mum.’
    Gibbs had met Kathleen Waterhouse only once, at the engagement party. She’d seemed timid, unassuming – a fade-into-the-background sort of person. Gibbs couldn’t understand why she hadn’t been allowed to attend her son’s wedding, why it was so crucial that she shouldn’t find out where he was going on his honeymoon.
    â€˜I’ll answer any question but that one.’ Olivia sounded apologetic. ‘Sorry, but Charlie made me swear.’
    â€˜I’m not asking any other questions. That’s the question I’m asking, and I’m going to keep asking. Though I reckon I know where they are. It doesn’t take a genius.’
    â€˜You can’t possibly know, unless you’re psychic.’ Olivia looked worried.
    â€˜You mentioned them ‘jetting off’ before, to put me off the scent. They haven’t jetted off anywhere, have they? They’re still here.’ Gibbs grinned, pleased with his theory.
    â€˜
Here?
In Torquay, you mean?’
    â€˜Here: the Blue Horizon Hotel – the last place I’d expect them to be, after they made a big show of leaving a few hours ago.’
    Olivia rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. Or maybe it was the real thing. ‘They’re not here, and this isn’t the Blue Horizon Hotel,’ she said. ‘It’s Blue Horizon.’
    Was she taking the piss? ‘That’s what I said.’
    â€˜No, you called it the Blue Horizon Hotel.’
    â€˜It’s called Blue Horizon, it’s a hotel,’ said Gibbs impatiently. ‘That makes it the Blue Horizon Hotel.’
    â€˜No, it doesn’t.’ Olivia was inspecting him as if he was from another planet. ‘Blue Horizon