At least, you got tried and sentenced for killing her. Or are you claiming to be innocent of that killing too?' She takes her time, not as if the effort of remembering is painful so much as if the machinery of memory is rusty. Finally: 'I killed her,' she says. Redditch tries to follow up once more but now Waggs cuts him off. 'OK, Martin, you got two in. We'll call it one for each channel.

Next!' 'Norman Proudfoot, Church Times. Miss Kohler, the TV programme mentioned the Bible your mother gave you as a child. I presume it's that same Bible you're carrying now. Can you tell us what comfort you have drawn from it during your long imprisonment?' She looks down at the book still clutched tight against her breast. 'It helped me look in at myself. Without it, I don't think I'd have survived.' This is the longest answer she gives. The questions come thick and fast, some aggressive, some insinuating, some simply inane. All receive the same treatment – a pause followed by a short reply in a soft monotonous voice. Soon Waggs ceases to intervene and relaxes, faintly smiling as the cohorts of the Press dash themselves vainly against the walls of her solitude. At last the room is silent. Waggs asks, 'All done?'

Sally Blindcrake says, 'I know I've had my question but it was so long ago I've forgotten what it was. How about me closing the circle?' 'In the interests of balance? Well, that's certainly a novelty in the Sphere, Sally. OK. Last question.' 'Miss Kohler. Cecily. Cissy. If you were innocent, why did you confess?' This time the preliminary pause goes on and on. Blindcrake says, 'OK, let me rephrase the question. Not only did you confess, but your alleged confession implicated Ralph Mickledore to such an extent that, along with the other evidence against him, it sent him to the gallows. Was he innocent too?' Waggs says, 'OK, Sally, I should have known better.