Feeling as though she had been dragged forcibly out of a thick bog, she tried to focus on the table where the telephone stood. At last she pulled herself together enough to pick up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ ‘Willow,’ came the vigorous voice of Tom Worth. ‘Yes. What time is it?’ ‘Seven o’clock. You’re usually up by now. What’s the matter?’ Willow noticed that there was no apology for having woken her up, but all she said was: ‘Nothing. I was heavily asleep, that’s all. What do you want?’ ‘There’s been another poisoning. It ought to be in your paper this morning. That’s how I learned about it. I’m going to find out more, but from what I’ve read it sounds horribly as though it’s another of ours. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’ve talked to the people in charge of the case in Cheltenham. By the way, I’m sorry I woke you.’ ‘It’s all right, Tom,’ said Willow, mollified as much by his news as by his belated apology.
