Claire shook her head, and the lines of exhaustion seemed to deepen around her mouth.

“But I understand you’ve reported some things missing from the house,” said Kincaid, and Deveney gave him a quick nod of confirmation.

“My pearls. And the earrings Alastair gave me on my birthday… he had them specially made.” Claire sank back against the sofa cushion and closed her eyes.

“It sounds as if they must have been quite valuable,” said Gemma.

When Claire didn’t stir, Lucy glanced at her, then answered, “I suppose they were. I don’t know, really.” She pulled her hand free of her mother’s and held it out in a pleading gesture. “Please, Superintendent,” she said, and at the distress in her voice the dog began to bark, scrabbling against the door with his claws.

“Do shut him up, Lucy,” said Claire, but her voice was listless, and she didn’t move or open her eyes.

Lucy sprang up, but even as she did so the dog’s barking faded to a whimper, then subsided altogether. She sank back to the edge of the sofa, looking in mute appeal from her mother to Kincaid.

“Only one more thing, Lucy, I promise,” he said softly, then he turned to Claire. “Mrs. Gilbert, do you have any idea why your husband came home early?”

Claire pressed her fingers to her throat and said slowly, “No. I’m sorry.”

“Do you know who he was meet-”

“Please.” Lucy stood up, shivering. She crossed her arms tightly beneath her breasts and said through chattering teeth, “She’s said already. She doesn’t know.”

“It’s all right, darling,” said Claire, rousing herself. With an apparent effort, she pushed herself to the edge of her seat. “Lucy’s right, Superintendent. It’s not-it wasn’t Alastair’s habit to share details about his work. He didn’t tell me whom he intended seeing.” She stood up, then swayed. Lucy reached out to support her, and as she was the taller of the two, her arm fit easily around her mother’s shoulders.