"If he's at the Front, this Wiltshire officer hasn't spoken to the police," she pointed out. "And just now, what Lieutenant Evanson probably wants more than anything else is for the police to find her killer."

"Does it say there how she died? I didn't read the rest of the article."

She went back to the newspaper, scanning down the column of close print. "Here it is. She was stabbed and then thrown in the river. They say that she was still alive when she went into the water, but was most likely unconscious."

"How awful." I tried to bring up the image of the woman I'd seen in London, her face streaked with tears. Yes, it was the same person. I'd have no problem swearing to that. And the man? Could I remember him as clearly? Dark hair, blue eyes, a rather weak chin…

More to the point, would I know him again?

"What if this officer hasn't seen the newspapers? Or been told yet that she's dead? If the police find him, it's possible he could tell them where she was going after she left the station. There's no way of knowing where that might lead," Martha James persisted.

"Yes," I said slowly. "You're right. I really should report what I saw, and let the Yard decide whether it's helpful information or not."

"They don't mention what time she died or when her body was found. More's the pity," she added, finishing the article. "You may have been the last person to see her alive, except for her killer. Now there's an unsettling thought. If he was looking for a likely victim, he might have followed you home instead. You were a woman alone too."

"You have a ghoulish imagination," I told her. "I'll write the letter now."