spirits - one slice of toast, and a shower later, she was feeling fit.
She was actually in the middle of the morning briefing before she felt the urge once more. But then, it was easy to fight it off because she could hardly duck into the ladies', and that was just how it was. What she could do instead was keep her mind on her work and vow to have a different kind of evening and night at the end of this day. Which, she decided, she could easily manage.
Sergeants Havers and Nkata had reported in first thing from the New Forest. They were staying in a hotel in Sway - Forest Heath Hotel, it was called, Havers said - and this bit of information was met with guffaws and remarks of the "Hope Winnie's managed to get his own room" ilk, which Isabelle cut off with a sharp, "That'll do," while they assessed the information the two sergeants had unearthed so far. Havers appeared to be building up a head of steam over the fact that Gordon Jossie was a master thatcher and that thatching tools were not only deadly but made by hand. For his part, Nkata seemed to be more interested in the fact of another woman being present in Gordon Jossie's life. Havers also mentioned Gordon Jossie's letters of reference from a Winchester college and then brought up a thatcher called Ringo Heath. She concluded by listing the names of individuals still needing to be spoken to.
"C'n we get you lot on to background checks?" Havers then asked. "Hastings, Jossie, Heath, Dickens ..." They'd spoken to the local rozzers, by the way, but there wasn't a lot of joy to be had from that quarter. New Scotland Yard were welcome to nose round the locals' patch, according to the CS in Lyndhurst, but as the murder was in London, it wasn't the locals'
problem.
Ardery assured the sergeant that they'd get on things at this end, since she herself wished to know everything there was to know about anyone even remotely concerned with Jemima Hastings. "I want to know every detail there is, down to whether their bowels move regularly,"
she told the team. She instructed Philip Hale to carry on with the names from Hampshire and she ticked off the additional London names in case he'd forgotten them: Yolanda the Psychic, aka Sharon Price; Jayson Druther; Abbott Langer; Paolo di Fazio; Frazer Chaplin; Bella McHaggis.
"Alibis for everyone, with confirmation, and try for two sources. John, I'll want you handling that part. Coordinate with SO7 as well. Light a fire over there. We need some good information."
Stewart gave no indication that he'd heard her, so Isabelle said, "Did you get that, John?"
to which he smiled sardonically and pointed an index finger to his temple.
"All in there ...guv," he noted, and, "Anything else?" as if he suspected that she was the one in need of a good prodding.
She narrowed her eyes. She was about to respond when Thomas Lynley did so. He was standing at the back of the room, politely keeping himself out of the way although she couldn't decide if this was a benefit to her or merely a reminder to everyone else of what was likely the immense contrast between their styles. He said, "Perhaps Matt Jones? Sidney St. James's partner? It's likely nothing, but if he'd been to the cigar shop as Barbara indicated ..."
"Matt Jones as well," Isabelle said. "Philip, can someone on your team ... ?"
"Will do," Hale said.
She told them all to get on with it, then, and said, "Thomas? If you'll come with me ..."
They would seek out Paolo di Fazio's studio, she told him. Between their interview with the sculptor and Barbara Havers' report of her conversation with Bella McHaggis about Paolo and the pregnancy test, there existed an ocean that wanted swimming.
Lynley nodded, amenable to anything, it seemed. She said she would meet him at her car.
Five minutes for her to use the ladies', she told him. He said certainly in that well-bred fashion of his and she felt him watching her as she walked off. She stopped in her office to grab her handbag, and she took it with her to the toilet. No one could possibly fault her for that, she thought.
As before, he was waiting patiently at her car, but this time on the passenger's side. She raised an eyebrow, to which he said, "I expect you need the practice, guv. London traffic and all that ...