‘Ah, Betts. At last.’ Betts, his face flushed from the cold outside, closed the door behind him. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, sir. My plane was delayed due to the fog.’ He undid his overcoat while Fitzjohn sat back, an expectant look on his face. ‘How did you get on?’ ‘Well, sir. Pamela Marquis confirmed that this is the Simon Rhodes she knew.’ Betts sat down and pulled the photograph of Rhodes from his pocket. He handed it to Fitzjohn. ‘She said they separated four years ago, although she has no idea where he went after that. Apparently, Rhodes took her for everything she had invested and left her with a mountain of debt.’ ‘It sounds as though he creates havoc for whomever he comes into contact with, Betts. Do you think she’d be willing to stand up in court?’ ‘I don’t know, sir. The woman’s terrified of coming into contact with Rhodes again.’ 'Mmm. One could hardly blame her. Very well. Let's deal with first things first. We'll pay Simon Rhodes a visit.’ Fitzjohn half smiled. ‘See if we can hit a nerve or two.’ Fitzjohn and Betts made their way through the hubbub of the station and out to their car.
