‘Adam Kowalski looks more and more like a beanpole every time you see him,’ Peg piped up.

‘Have you ever noticed,’ Eleanor said, ‘how he always runs his hand over the plaque in the wall beside his shop, every time he passes? I wonder if he is a secret believer.’

‘No.’ Peg shook her head. ‘I saw him do it and I asked him why, and he said he did it for luck. He said that Karl Marx might be the most famous man in the world, and he, Adam Kowalski, the least, but Marx was dead and he was alive, and that, in the end, was all that really counted.’

‘That,’ said Eleanor severely, ‘is a matter of opinion.’

Peg suddenly gave a little shiver. Meredith, thinking of the electricity bill, snapped, ‘It’s not cold, Peg. Look at the sun out there.’

It was true. The golden light was gleaming on the chimneys and slate roofs of the buildings on the other side of the Lane.

‘It is a beautiful day, dear,’ Peg replied wistfully. Then impulsively she added, ‘Why don’t you come with us today, Meredith? Just this once?’

‘Why should I want to go for a walk in a flippin’ cemetery?’ Meredith sniffed. ‘I’ll get there in a box soon enough, I dare say. No, thank you, I’ll put me feet up as usual and have me glass of port and forty winks.’

‘Come on,’ Eleanor said to Peg, getting to her feet. ‘We’ll clear the table and do the washing-up before we go.’

2

Kathy came running down the stairs to the mortuary feeling like a school kid late for classes. This is ridiculous, she thought, it’s my case, and stopped to get her breath. She pulled her sweater straight over the pleats of her skirt and ran a hand across the fair hair pulled to the back of her head, then stepped forward and pushed open the plastic swing doors.

There were half a dozen people in the room. She recognized the pathologist, Dr Mehta, standing by an open filing cabinet, writing on a clip-board, while his assistant, green-overalled and already kitted out with rubber gloves and cap, was sorting through nasty-looking tools on a stainless-steel tray. The anxious woman in the dark suit was probably from the coroner’s office, and a photographer sat near her, looking bored and hung-over.