Through the pillow, Maxwell could just hear her muttering ‘No, no and hell no!’ Could it be that bad if she was attempting a take-off of Will Smith in Men in Black? He risked a question. ‘Anyone I know?’ He leaned back, ready for the reply but she was too tired to rise to it. ‘Mollie Adamson’s half sister. Apparently, she knows who the murderer is.’ It took him a moment to translate, the whole being filtered through the pillow, but he was pretty sure that was the gist. ‘That’s good.’ The question hovered at the end of the sentence. She nodded her head, face still down in the pillow. ‘Is she likely to be right, do you think?’ This time the head circled. ‘No. Yes. I have no idea.’ She sat up and turned to face him. ‘What time is it?’ she asked and he screwed round to look at the clock behind him on the bedside table. ‘Half past one.’ He groaned. ‘Why did she wait until now?’ ‘If it was anyone other than her, I would say she has an axe to grind. Most people who come in or ring in the middle of the night do it on the back of a row.
