It simply was not possible that the person who had searched her Chesham Place flat could also have found his way into her office at DOAP. There was no one (except of course Richard, who did not count) who could have connected the formidable spinster of DOAP with the absurdly rich Cressida Woodruffe, she told herself, and then remembered with a sickeningly deep intake of breath her feeling that someone had been watching her at Sloane Square tube station on the night of her last weekly transformation. Had someone actually followed her from DOAP that night? Willow dropped her head in her hands. Rationally she knew perfectly well that it did not really matter if she were to be unmasked – however awkward or embarrassing that would be – but the idea of someone creeping behind her, cheating his way in to her flat, going through all her most personal possessions and lying in wait to expose her was horrible. Quite apart from the fact that such an invasion of her much-cherished privacy must have a bearing on the case, Willow knew that she could not ignore it.
