You meant he solved the Phillips case by strong-arming Niamh’s mother. You knew that all along.” “Aye, that I did.” Alasdair still gazed out the window, not that there was anything to see. He was probably gazing at the reflection of the room and her small figure huddled on the bed. “I did not know any names other than Maggie’s, not till Miranda phoned this morning. The chap in Cambridgeshire was going on about Grinsell’s particulars, not those of the case.” “Right.” Jean turned Alasdair’s verbal tic back on him. Unlike him, however, she couldn’t stop with the one word. “But when I asked whether Grinsell was involved in Maggie’s case you fudged. You flanneled. Why? Because I was already on the warpath about Grinsell and you didn’t want to add any more arrows to my quiver by defending him? Please let’s not get into an argument about ends justifying means.” “That’s not my intention at all.” “I know arguing isn’t your intention. What is?” “Last night my intention was getting at the truth with a minimum of fuss, when you and Maggie and Grinsell were already fussed.
