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to cause anyone any trouble and now he’s dead …’ She was crying again.
    ‘Do you know anyone named Ivan Tremlett, Mrs Gordon?’
    She shook her head, obviously bewildered by the question.
    Derwent put his pen into his jacket pocket with an air of finality and closed his folder. ‘Right. Thanks very much, Mrs Gordon.’ He flicked a card onto the coffee table and got to his feet. ‘If you think of anything else, give us a call.’
    I doubted she had heard, but as the inspector was leaving the room, I thought I’d better do the same. I muttered some condolences, putting my own card down beside Derwent’s with a little bit more ceremony than he had managed. I found him in the kitchen, talking to Graham Gordon, who was washing up dirty cups slowly and carefully. He was tall and balding, and had the hangdog look of the habitually morose. In happier times it would probably have been for humorous effect, but there was little enough to smile about just then.
    Derwent had obviously decided that Gordon didn’t need gentle handling.
    ‘Who do you know who would have wanted to torture and kill your brother-in-law?’
    He shrugged. ‘No one.’
    The sitting-room door closed and I heard Vera’s footsteps on the stairs, heading up to where thumps and bumps announced the children were playing.
    ‘That’s not what your wife says. She says there was lots of people who wanted him gone.’
    ‘Might have been. But I don’t know them. You asked me if I knew anyone, and I don’t.’
    ‘Literal-minded,’ Derwent commented with a thin smile. ‘I can see I’m going to have to choose my words carefully with you.’
    ‘You can choose what you like. I don’t know anything and neither does Vera. Barry wasn’t the most forthcoming of individuals. If he’d been being threatened, he wouldn’t have wanted Vera to know because she’d have worried. And he barely talked to me.’ He fished around in the water, coming up with a handful of teaspoons that he slotted into the rack.
    ‘I thought the two of you got on.’
    ‘We did. But he was always quiet. Only spoke when he had something to say.’ He pulled the plug out of the sink. It made loud choking sounds as the water drained out. From the look on Gordon’s face, he had approved of his brother-in-law’s reserve. Derwent stepped closer, making Gordon move back until he came up against the cooker and couldn’t retreat any further.
    ‘You can’t have trusted him though. Given what he was. Did you really want him living here or was that just something you said to keep the peace with the missus?’
    ‘I’d have been all right with it.’
    ‘All right with it? All right with leaving him alone with your daughter? Or even your son? People change in prison, Graham. They try out different things. Barry might have developed a taste for young boys. Would you really have been happy to turn your back on him?’
    ‘I didn’t mind Barry.’ The man’s voice was toneless, his face stony. He picked up a tea towel and dried his hands, not hurrying. ‘I’ve known him for a long time – before all of this happened. I was there at the trial, when I could be. I heard the evidence. You didn’t.’
    Derwent stayed where he was for a second, eyes narrowed, considering what Gordon had said. Then he rocked back on his heels with a laugh. ‘Just pushing your buttons, mate. Just trying to see what you really thought of him.’
    ‘Well, now you know.’ Gordon flipped the tea towel onto his shoulder. ‘You also know where the front door is. I’ll let you see yourselves out.’
    Derwent made as if to leave, then turned back. ‘Seriously, though – did your kids see much of Uncle Barry?’
    Gordon’s nostrils flared and his face became suffused with blood. ‘You’re not talking to my kids. No fucking way.’
    ‘I’ll take that as a no, then. Don’t feel bad, mate. I wouldn’t have wanted them spending time with him either, if I’d been in your shoes.’
    I thought Gordon was going to