next to it a table held bags of plaster and several other containers. Unfortunately, what the stall did not hold at the present moment was the artist himself, although the heavy plastic sheeting that formed its rear wall bore photographs of the masks he produced along with their subjects posed next to them.
A sign on a makeshift counter indicated the time when the artist would return. Ardery glanced at this and then at her watch, after which she said to Lynley, "Let's have some refreshment."
They sought said refreshment back the way they'd come, down below the tobacconist in the courtyard. The violinist who'd played there earlier was gone, and it was just as well, because Ardery apparently wanted conversation along with her refreshment. This turned out to be a glass of wine, at which Lynley lifted an eyebrow.
She saw this. "I've no objection to a glass of wine on duty, Inspector Lynley. We deserve one after J-a-y-s-o-n. Please join me. I hate to feel like a lush."
"I think I won't," he said. "I hit it rather hard after Helen died."
"Ah. Yes. I expect you did."
Lynley ordered mineral water in turn at which Ardery lifted her own eyebrow. She said to him, "Not even a soft drink? Are you always this virtuous, Thomas?"
"Only when I want to impress."
"And do you?"
"Want to impress you? Don't we all? If you're to be the guv, then it serves the rest of us to begin jockeying for positions of prominence, doesn't it?"
"I have serious doubts that you've spent much time jockeying for any position."
"Unlike yourself? You're climbing quickly."
"That's what I do." She looked round the courtyard in which they sat. It wasn't as crowded as the area above them since here there was only the restaurant cum wine bar at the base of a wide stairway. But it was crowded enough. Every table was taken. They'd been lucky to find a spot to sit. "God, what a mass of humanity," she said. "Why d'you reckon people come to places like these?"
"Associations," he said. She turned back to him. He fingered a crockery bowl holding cubes of sugar, rotating it in his fingers as he went on. "History, art, literature. The opportunity to imagine. Perhaps a revisiting of a place from childhood. All sorts of reasons."
"But not to buy T-shirts saying „Mind the gap'?"
"An unfortunate by-product of rampant capitalism."
She smiled at this. "You can be mildly amusing."
"So I've been told, generally with the stress on mildly."
Their drinks arrived. He noticed that she took hers up with some alacrity. She apparently noticed him noticing. "I'm trying to drown the memory of Jayson. It was the appalling earlobes."
"An interesting stylistic choice," he admitted. "One wonders what the next fad will be now that bodily mutilation is in vogue."
"Branding, I daresay. What did you make of him?"
"Aside from his earlobes? I'd say his alibi will be simple enough to confirm. The copies of receipts from the till will have the time of day printed on them - "
"Someone could have stood in his place in the shop, Thomas."
" - and likely there's going to be a regular customer or two, not to mention another shopkeeper hereabouts, who'll be able to confirm he was here. I don't see him as likely to tear open someone's jugular vein, do you?"
"Admittedly, no. Paolo di Fazio?"
"Or whoever might be at the other end of the postcards. That was a mobile number on it."
Isabelle reached for her handbag and brought the postcards out. Jayson had given them over with a "happy to be rid of them, darling," upon her request. She said to Lynley, "They make things interesting," and then observing him, "which brings us to Sergeant Havers."
"Speaking of interesting," he noted wryly.
"Have you been happy working with her?"
"I have been, very."
"Despite her ..." Ardery seemed to search for a word.
He supplied her with several. "Recalcitrance? Obstinate refusal to toe the line? Lack of finesse? Intriguing personal habits?"
Ardery brought her wine to her lips, and she examined him over the glass rim as she drank. "You're rather oddly paired. One wouldn't expect it. I think you know what I mean. I do know she's had professional difficulties. I've read her personnel file."
"Just hers?"
"Of course not. I've read everyone's. Yours as well. I mean to have this job, Thomas. I mean to have a team that works like a well-oiled machine. If Sergeant Havers turns out to be a loose screw in the works, I'm going to get rid of her."