“Speak quietly,” she said. “Mr West, this is Dr Fischer, Carl Fischer. Carl, you must handle David very carefully. Say I told you that Belle had collapsed, but you don’t know another thing. Don’t mention Ricky, don’t let him think you know about that yet, just let him talk. And don’t forget any-thing he says.”

Fischer gave a quick smile, splitting his face in two.

“As you say, honey. I’ll go up.”

“Don’t forget Fig Mayo,” Lissa said.

Fischer nodded and went out. Lissa turned to Roger and put a hand on his arm, lightly, naturally.

“You didn’t go far,” Roger said heavily.

“I went to the nearest telephone and talked to Tony, and Carl arrived just after I got back. I heard everything David said, and I’m not surprised. I’ve always known that David would insist on doing what he believed best, whatever Belle thought. Until we get Ricky back, we can write David off.” The intensity of her manner much more than her words, affected Roger. “Do you want to do anything else here?”

“Not yet.”

They went to the front door and into the street. Roger’s car was drawn up at the end of the cul-de-sac.

“Who is Fig Mayo?” Roger asked.

“Just a man who made David see red,” answered Lissa. He made a pass at Belle. He was drunk, or he wouldn’t have asked for a suicide ticket David threw him out of a fifth-floor window. Only a canvas canopy saved his life, all he broke was an arm and a leg. It was covered up as an accident, but it’s the kind of accident that could happen again with David in certain moods.” She paused, and as they reached Roger’s car she stated flatly: “Fig Mayo is as big a man as you.”

“If Shawn threw me out of a fifth-floor window or even out of a door, we could put him in a cell and let him cool his heels,” Roger said. “Think about that.”