That mean the lad will get the money? What shall I say? It's what Bob wanted. Fair upset him, it did, to think the government would get it all."

"He made alternative provisions, you know, in case the boy wasn't found. It'll go to various children's charities."

The old man's mouth compressed into a split of disgust.

"And we all know what sort of children they'll be. The worthless sort.

The sort as are never going to make anything of their selves but live off the rest of us till they drop. And you know who I blame. The social workers. They're namby-pamby when it comes to telling a woman she's had more children than's good for her."

"Quite," Roz interrupted hurriedly, reining in the inevitable hobby horse. She tapped her pencil on her notepad.

"Do you remember telling me that your wife thought Olive committed the murders because of hormones?"

He pursed his lips at the abrupt change of subject.

"Maybe."

"Did your wife say that because she knew Olive had had an abortion the previous Christmas?"

"Maybe."

"Do you know who the father was, Mr. Hayes?"

He shook his head.

"Someone she met through work, we were told. Silly girl. Only did it to c.o.c.k a snook at Amber." He fingered his ancient mouth.

"Or that's what I reckoned anyway.

Amber had a lot of boyfriends."

So much for Mr. Hayes and Crew in a conspiracy of silence, thought Roz.

"When did you find out about it?"

"Gwen told my Jeannie. She was that upset. Thought Olive was going to up and get married and abandon them all. It would have done for Gwen, that would. She couldn't have coped on her own."

"Coped with what?"

"Everything," he said vaguely.

"Housework, you mean?"

"Housework, cooking, bills, shopping. Everything. Olive did everything."

"What did Gwen do?"

He didn't answer immediately, but seemed to be weighing something in his mind. He glanced across at Hal.

"You lot never did ask many questions. I might have said something if you had."

Hal eased himself in his chair.

"At the time it was clear cut," he said carefully.

"But Miss Leigh has unearthed a number of discrepancies which do tend to throw a different light on the affair. What would you have told us, had you been asked?"

Mr. Hayes sucked at his false teeth.

"Well, for one thing, Gwen Martin drank too much. She had troubles, I can't deny that, kept up a good front, I can't deny that either, but she was a bad mother. She married beneath herself and it made her bitter.

Felt life had dealt her a bad hand and she took it out on Bob and the girls. My Jeannie always said if it hadn't been for Olive the family would have fallen apart years before. It made us sick, of course, what she did, but everyone turns eventually and she was badly put upon one way and another.

She shouldn't have killed them, though. Can't forgive that."

"No," said Roz thoughtfully.

"So what did Gwen do all day while the other three were out at work?"

The marbled hands fluttered a contradiction.

"Amber was at home more often than not. Work-shy, that one. Never stayed anywhere very long. Used to drive her mother mad listening to pop records at full blast and inviting boys up to her bedroom.

She was a pretty girl but my Jeannie said she was difficult.

Couldn't see it myself." He smiled reminiscently.

"She was always charming to me. I had a soft spot for little Amber.

But she got on with men, I think, better than she got on with women."

He peered at Roz.

"You asked me about Gwen. What shall I say, Miss Leigh? She kept up appearances. If you knocked on the door she was always smartly dressed, always held herself well, always spoke with icy correctness, but as often as not she was drunk as a lord. Strange woman. Never did know why she took to the bottle, unless it was the business of Amber's baby. She was a lot worse afterwards."

Roz drew her cherub doodle.

"Robert Martin was an active h.o.m.os.e.xual but didn't want anyone to know," she said bluntly.

"Perhaps that's what she found difficult to cope with."

Mr. Hayes sniffed.

"She drove him to it," he said.

"There was nothing wrong with Bob that a loving wife wouldn't have put right. The two girls were his all right, so there was nothing untoward in the locker at the beginning, if you get my meaning.

It was her turned him off women. She was frigid."

Roz let that pa.s.s. Mr. Hayes was too set in his views to see that what he said was nonsense and, in any case, there was probably some truth in the idea that Gwen was frigid. Roz found it difficult to believe that Robert Martin could ever have got as far as the altar with a woman who had a normal s.e.xual drive.

Her very normality would have been a threat to him.

"But if she was mourning Amber's baby," she said in feigned puzzlement, "I don't understand why she didn't try and get him back or at least establish contact with him? Presumably she knew who had adopted him or she wouldn't have been able to tell your Jeannie his name."

He tut-tutted impatiently.

"It wasn't Jeannie told me the name, it was my son, Stewart, six, seven weeks back. Knew I'd be interested, seeing as how me and Bob were pals." He wagged a finger at her.

"You don't know much about adoption, that's for sure. Once you sign *em away, that's it. You're not given a dossier. Gwen never knew who'd got him."

Roz smiled easily.

"Does your son work for Mr. Crew, then? I've not come across him. I thought he took after you and became a soldier."

"Blooming Army didn't want him any more, did they?" he muttered crossly.

"Cutbacks there, like everywhere else. What shall I say? So much for loyalty to Queen and country. Course he doesn't work for Mr. Crew.

He's running a small security firm with his brother, but there's precious little work." He flexed his arthritic fingers in annoyance.

"Trained soldiers and the best they can get is night watchmen jobs.

Their wives aren't happy, not by a long chalk."

Roz gritted her teeth behind another ingenuous smile.

"So how did he know the child's name?"

Archly, Mr. Hayes tapped the side of his nose.

"No names no pack drill, young lady. Always best."

Hal leaned forward aggressively and held up a hand.

"One moment, please, Miss Leigh." He drew his brows together in a ferocious scowl.

"You do realise, Mr. Hayes, that if your son doesn't work for Mr. Crew then, strictly speaking, he's committed an offence by being in receipt of confidential information. The legal profession is bound by the same codes as the medical profession and if someone in Mr. Crew's practice is talking to outsiders, then both he and the police would want to know about it."

"Bah!" the old man snorted contemptuously.

"You never change, you lot. What shall I say? Quick as lightning to bang up the innocent while the b.l.o.o.d.y thieves wander around, free as birds, nicking anything they feel like nicking. You should do what you're being paid for, Sergeant, and not go round threatening old men.

It was Mr. Crew himself gave out that information. He told my lad and my lad told me. How's he supposed to know it's confidential if the blooming solicitor's telling everyone? Stands to reason he'd pa.s.s it on, seeing as how I was the only friend Bob had at the end." He glared suspiciously from Hal to Roz.

"What you bring a policeman for, anyway?"

"Because there's some doubt of Olive's guilt," said Roz glibly, wondering if being economical with the truth const.i.tuted deliberate impersonation of a police officer.

"This gentleman is holding a watching brief while I talk to people."

"I see," said Mr. Hayes. But it was obvious he didn't.

"I'm nearly finished." She smiled brightly.

"I found the Clarkes, by the way. Had a chat with them a week or so ago.

Poor Mrs. Clarke is completely senile now."

The watery eyes looked amused.

"That doesn't surprise me.

She was pretty far gone when I knew her. I sometimes thought my Jeannie was the only sensible woman in the road."

"I gather Mr. Clarke had to stay at home to look after her?"

She raised her eyebrows in enquiry.

"But he spent more time with Robert than he spent with her. How friendly were they, Mr. Hayes? Do you know?"

It was obvious he understood the point of her question. He chose out of delicacy? not to answer it.

"Good friends," he muttered, *and who can blame them? Bob's wife was a dip so and Ted's was the silliest creature I've ever met. Cleaned the house from top to bottom every day." He gave a grunt of contempt.

"Hygiene mad, she was. Used to walk around in nothing but an overall, no undies in case she spread germs, swabbing everything with disinfectant." He chuckled suddenly.

"Remember once she scrubbed the dining table with neat Domestos to sterilise it. Hah! Ted was hopping mad. He'd just paid for the thing to be french polished after Dorothy's last effort with boiling water.

And now she's completely senile, you say. Not surprised. Not surprised at all."

Roz sat with her pencil poised above her notepad.

"And can you say," she asked after a moment, *if Ted and Bob were lovers?"

"No. It weren't none of my business."

"OK." She gathered her things together.

"Thank you, Mr.

Hayes. I don't know if there's anything Mr. Hawksley wants to ask you." She looked at Hal.

He stood up.

"Only the name of your son's security firm, Mr. Hayes."

The old man eyed him suspiciously.