Mrs Hardy gave that a minute’s thought. ‘No. I don’t think it bothered him.’

‘Did you find that strange?’

‘What? That he took care of the kids or that he didn’t resent taking care of them?’

‘I don’t know. Both. Either.’

Another beat while she reflected. ‘Not any more than anybody else.’ Mrs Hardy broke a smile to the jurors. ‘I think sometimes our little darlings get hard for anybody.’ Then, back to Scott, more seriously. ‘But with Ron, he seemed fine with it. His wife did her job, he did his. He’s a good father.’

‘She made the money and he didn’t?’

‘That’s right, Mr Randall. It happens here in the Nineties.’

‘And that didn’t bother him? Being the man and not making any money.’

‘I just said that. It didn’t seem to.’ Her voice took on a sharp edge. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to get at.’

‘I’m trying to find out who killed Mrs Beaumont.’

‘Well, it wasn’t Ron. He was with me when she died. We were having coffee at the Starbucks on 28th and Geary, near Merryvale School.’ This seemed to remind of her something and she glanced up at the wall clock, pursed her lips.

Scott Randall pushed ahead. ‘And how did that come about?’

‘What?’

‘Having coffee.’

‘I don’t even understand that question. We just decided to go get a cup of coffee. There wasn’t anything sinister about it.’

‘I didn’t say there was.’

‘Well, it seems to me you implied it. We met at school dropping off the kids, and Ron said he felt like a cup of coffee and I said I thought that sounded good. So we both went.’

Again, she glanced at the wall clock. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but are we almost done here? I’ve got to go pick up my kids pretty soon.’

‘When we’re done,’ Scott replied. ‘After we’re done.’

Scott did not view himself as a cruel person, but a woman’s tears on a witness stand were as unimportant as the temperature in the room, or the lighting. Sometimes you had to deal with them, that was all. But you had no feelings about them one way or the other.