My head spun as his cold eyes held me, appraisingly. Then I recognized my paranoia for what it was and slipped into my artless role. There. I was committed. I had declared war against the light. ‘Inspector Turner!’ I said. ‘Do forgive me; I really wasn’t expecting you. For a moment I even found myself forgetting your name. The Inspector raised his hat with meticulous politeness. I recognized the technique; he wanted me to speak too much, thereby giving something away. I smiled at him. ‘Do come in. I’ve just made some coffee; would you like a cup?’ ‘I wouldn’t refuse one,’ said Turner. As I showed him in, I noticed his eyes flick over the room, taking in the unmade bed, the cold grate, the rows of books on the shelves by the fireside. ‘Please take a seat,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’m rather glad you’ve come.’ He gave me a mildly questioning look. ‘I’ve been wanting to thank you for your support last time we met,’ I said, with a mixture of openness and slight embarrassment in my voice.
