ul. I had the police morning, noon, and night when he was first arrested all those years ago; they hounded me and I swear it was because of him that my husband got so ill. The strain of it all was terrible.""So when he came to the cottage, before he came here injured ...""I didn't know what to do. I said I didn't want to see him after what had happened to my husband and he just laughed at me; said that I was living very comfortably for someone who didn't want anything to do with him. Sometimes it felt as if he hated me, blamed me for everything, and I had such guilt. You see, he was such a lovable little boy and he worshipped his father; having to bring him up on my own was difficult. It's strange, but the older he got, the more he became like his father; he could still turn on the charm, and he had this manner to him. He could draw people to him like a magnet but, underneath it all, he was very cruel.""But he knew Damien and Honour, didn't he?" Mrs. Eatwell was now very distraught. Anna felt bad about continuing to put pressure on her, but she carried on nevertheless. "Mrs. Eatwell, your son kept in contact with them, didn't he?""He had to, because of the money. It was the only thing he ever cared about—money, and that nasty little bitch.""Julia?""Yes! She was the reason why he came back. She had done something with his accounts and he had lost all his money in America. You don't seem to understand that we were frightened of him.""I don't think Honour was frightened of him.""She was—we all were. Whatever she is saying now isn't the truth. I had to have him here. I had no option, because he was sick, and if you think I wasn't scared about what would happen if anyone found out, then you are wrong. Telling me all these terrible things about what he has done gives me even more reason to have been frightened." She wiped her eyes, and blew her nose, slowly calming down. "I did not know what was in those crates, but it wasn't hard for me to guess. I had no option but to let him store them in my garage, just as poor Honour had to let him put them at the farm; she was as frightened as I was.""Damien had to be aware of what they contained," Anna said.She refused to agree, repeating that only she and Honour knew, and that Damien was innocent. Anna's mobile rang and she moved into the hallway. It was Gordon calling from the bank.Mrs. Eatwell's account, under the joint signature of Anthony Collingwood, had been cleaned out of seven hundred thousand pounds. The money had been transferred to an account in Geneva and subsequently moved on from there; the transaction was done by Anthony Collingwood. When asked if he had been to the bank in person, they admitted that he had; it was the first time they had actually met him.Anna cut off the call; this was really bad news. It meant that Fitzpatrick, far from being cornered and broke, was now fully financed. With that much money, he could be anywhere. It also meant that Mrs. Eatwell had only her pension left.When Anna told her, instead of being angry or even upset, the old lady said she felt nothing but relief. "I told you that all he ever cared about was money. Well, now you can see he's taken everything—even from me, his mother.""I'm sorry."Perhaps it was the relief of knowing her son had taken the money and gone that made Doris begin to give Anna more details of her past. "You know, he blamed me for everything—even blamed me for his obsession with wealth. You see, his father, my first husband, was a very well-off, aristocratic man. Never did a day's work in his life. We lived a life of luxury: beautiful house, chauffeurs and staff, holidays abroad. Alex went to an expensive prep school in Kensington; he was exceptionally clever. Even as young as six, he had such a charm, but he was very spoiled. He got whatever he wanted from his father.""You were divorced?""Yes, it was very unpleasant. Alex blamed me; he was too young to understand what had happened. We went from having everything to nothing. I had to take him out of Eton because I couldn't afford the fees. In those days, there was no real protection for divorcees and even though I was awarded alimony, it was never paid."Anna sat at the kitchen table as Mrs. Eatwell made some toast, then spread a cheese slice on top and put it under the grill. She sliced up tomatoes and some ham, and then put the slices together, carefully cutting off the crusts. She got a plate and placed the sandwich onto it, and sat unfolding a napkin."I was pregnant," she said quietly.Anna said nothing. Then, after a long pause, while Mrs. Eatwell stared at her sandwich and cut it into small neat pieces, she spoke. "You were pregnant?"Mrs. Eatwell eventually whispered, "Damien," and pushed the plate aside. Anna had been right.Damien Nolan had been adopted at birth, as Doris had been unable to care for him since she had to go out to work. She explained how, ten years ago, Damien had contacted her. He had become everything that Alexander was not. Honour had looked after her; without them, she doubted she would have been able to cope with the death of her husband. Her second marriage had been very loving, but Alexander had loathed his stepfather, who was the antithesis of Alexander's own father: a simple, quiet man who tried to care for his stepson, only to have to go through the public outcry when it became known he was an international drug dealer. With the press over the arrest of her son, her husband lost his job, then was diagnosed with throat cancer. She was once again financially insecure, until money started to come in from Alexander to pay for medical bills.The sandwich remained untouched. She asked Anna if it was possible to keep Damien s relationship to Alexander secret as, if it was to get out, he would lose his job at the university. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I love him. and to have him back in my life meant so much. To have Alex back was a nightmare. Part of me hopes that you will find him, but the other part prays that you won't because, if you do, it'll start again; the press will hound us and 1 don't want Damien hurt."Anna said she would try, but couldn't make any promises. She did not mention that Mrs. Eatwell would still be charged with perverting the course of justice, along with various other charges.As Anna walked down the pathway of the cottage, Gordon was just pulling up. "DCS Langton is on his way; he said we should meet up at a fish-and-chip restaurant in the village. He does not want you to interview Damien Nolan.""Bollocks to that," she said, and started to walk up the lane." Tell him you just missed me. I'll be at the farmhouse."Gordon watched her for a moment before he reversed into the driveway of the cottage to turn and head back to the village.It was farther than Anna had remembered and, in some places, almost impassable, is there were deep muddy potholes. She hopped over a few and then sank into a deep one she hadn't noticed. Turning a bend in the lane, she saw two men digging a trench; they had reels of steel pipes and a trailer parked in a field. She watched them covertly for at least five minutes. They immediately reported the sighting of Anna, unaware of who she was.Anna guessed that the two men were surveillance officers; at least they appeared to be hard at work. Langton had not mentioned that the farm was still under surveillance—typical of him, she thought—and at the same time realized that he too must have had suspicions about Damien Nolan.Anna did not go toward the front door, but headed around the side of the farmhouse, as she had done previously. She could see the stable door to the kitchen was open at the top end, and there was a distinct smell of burning toast. As she approached, charred bread was hurled out and she could hear swearing."Hello," she said as she came closer.Damien appeared with a mesh toasting rack in his hand. "I didn't hit you, did I?" he asked."No, just missed me."He waved the rack. "I always forget how fast toast does on the Aga. You want to see me?""Yes."He opened the bottom of the stable door and wafted the rack like a tennis racket to indicate she should enter. "Are you hungry?"Anna stepped into the kitchen. There was a roaring fire in the grate and the lid of the hot oven open on the Aga."1 can offer you cheese on toast, or scrambled eggs and bacon, or a BLT," Damien said as he went to the big pine table and began to cut two slices of bread from a fresh crusty loaf."I'd like a BLT," Anna replied."Right, you keep an eye on the toast. The bacon should be ready any second."Like Doris, his mother, he sliced tomatoes, moving back and forth to a big, old American fridge to fetch some lettuce. He appeared to be totally at ease and in no way alarmed by Anna's presence. She crossed to the Aga and checked on the slices heating in the toast rack; she had never used an Aga before and was amazed how fast it had toasted the bread. She turned the rack over as Damien took out a tray of crisped bacon and then opened ajar of mayonnaise. Anna removed the bread, joining him at the table. "I've just come from your mother's." He spread the mayonnaise over the toast. "Yes, she said you were there." Anna laughed; Mrs. Eatwell must have sussed that Anna would be coming to see Damien, so had called him. "Now then, would you like a nice glass of Merlot or a coffee?" Anna asked for a cup of tea. He placed the big Aga kettle on the burner, uncorked an open bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass. He moved quickly and decisively, very much at home, fetching plates, glasses, and cutlery and placing them onto the table with napkins. Then he gestured for Anna to sit as he made her a cup of tea. "Do you take sugar?" "No, thank you." Anna was itching to start eating, but waited until he sat down and handed over her tea; he then raised his wineglass. "Cheers!" He sipped the wine and let it linger in his mouth. "Mmm, bit rancid, but it'll do; I could open a fresh botde if you changed your mind." "No, the tea is fine." He sat opposite her, and took tucked into hers, feeling in questioning him. "Will she have to go on trial?" he asked quietly."Probably. She seems able to deal with it. I doubt that she'll be badly treated, but she did lie about the whereabouts of her other son. Even though I don't believe she knew what the crates contained, she nevertheless knew they were there." "She's in her eighties, for God's sake!" "I am aware of that, but allowing her son to hide out in her cottage is an offense. She obviously knew he was wanted there is the fact that, by not being honest with gained access to a large sum of money." Damien took another bite of the sandwich. She noted that he gave no reaction to the fact that Fitzpatrick had withdrawn money. "Seven hundred thousand," Anna said as she too continued eating, then licked her fingers, as the mayonnaise had dribbled. "Will she be taken into the station in London?" he asked, still not referring to the money. "Possibly. We have an officer with her and she is aware she is under house arrest; at least she has not been uprooted from her home.know about the account in Anthony Collingwood's name, mother as a signatory?" "No." "So how did you think she years?" large bite of his sandwich. Anna a quandary as to how she should begin us, her son has now . Did you with your was able to renovate the cottage over the : money by her husband." "I presumed she had been left money by her husband.' It felt like they were just making conversation but, by the time she had finished her BLT, she picked up her briefcase and took out her notebook. "I'm here to confirm a few outstanding things. From your statement, you denied meeting Fitzpatrick." She glanced up at him; he was scraping around his plate with the crusts from his toast. "The handwritten note with directions to the farmhouse: we have verified that it is your handwriting—"He interrupted her. "This is stupid. My lawyer made it clear that, as evidence, it was rather pointless, as there is no proof of exactly when it was written. But I have actually given it a bit more thought."He got up, collected her dirty plate and his own, and crossed to the dishwasher. Anna waited as he stashed their dishes and then ran water over the oven tray he had used for the bacon. He was wearing jeans and a fawn cashmere sweater, with brown suede loafers and no socks. He was, she could tell, very fit; his lean stomach and long legs made him attractive physically, and he had an easygoing, unaffected manner. She had liked him from the first time she had met him.She flushed at herself even thinking about his attractiveness. "You said you'd been thinking about the note?""Yes. It had to have been about two or three years ago, maybe even more, but I wrote the directions for Julia. I mentioned she stayed once; well, she didn't actually stay at the farm—she hated it—and so moved into the cottage.""With your mother?"She saw a small glimmer of a reaction. He smiled and returned to the table to pour himself more wine. "I said you were very intuitive, didn't I?""Why didn't you admit it when I asked?""I didn't think it was any of your business. My mother has been very protective about her private life. It was a period when she regrets many of her decisions.""You were adopted?""Yes. I didn't even consider trying to trace my birth mother, as I had no real reason to; my adopted parents were a very caring couple. It wasn't until they passed away that I contemplated trying to find her.They never made any secret of my adoption. After they died, I found many letters. They had always kept in touch, so it was very simple for me to make contact." He sat opposite Anna again. "My mother had been through some very hard times, especially after my birth. 1 think Alex suffered from the divorce; one moment he had everything any child could want, and a father, then it was all taken away. It probably warped him for the rest of his life. He was in trouble with drugs from a very early age; not as an addict, but he discovered that it was a very easy way to make a lot of money. This was before I knew him, obviously. He made headlines when he escaped from court, but I had no reason to even think about our being related. I just always knew about him.""When did you contact your mother?"He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "Be about fifteen years ago. Another reason was, Honour and I hoped to start a family, so it was understandable that I should want to know more about my background."Anna nodded; it was all so easily acceptable, everything he said. "Did Honour know Mrs. Eatwell before you discovered she was your mother?"He nodded. "I believe so.""So she also knew about Julia and Alexander Fitzpatrick?"He became evasive, turning away. "It's a very small world.""Did Honour suspect you were related?""Not really.""But she had to know her sister was being kept by him?""Obviously, but she had little to do with Julia.""We have verified that her second child is yours.""Really? Well, that's something I didn't know."Anna suspected he was lying, not that his manner had changed; he was still appearing very relaxed and at ease. "According to Julia, at this time, Honour was living with Alexander, so you had to have been aware of who she was seeing—she was your wife.""Yes, I suppose I did.""So you knew who he was.""Yes, obviously.""Why didn't you contact the police? You must have known he was a wanted criminal?""Ah, well, it's slightly more complicated. By this time, I knew he was my brother. Something I haven't really told you was that Honour was Alex's girlfriend before I met her; he met Julia through her. Julia was, as you know, a lot younger—twelve years—and it was very painful for Honour when he took up with her sister."Anna jotted down notes. The complicated marital situation between the two brothers and sisters was like something out of a soap opera. She asked if he could repeat how Alexander had made contact. She was told that he simply just turned up; first at his mother's and then he came to the farmhouse."Did he know about you?""I suppose he did. As you saw, we do look similar—well, more so now since he's had so much plastic surgery. He's also taller and older.""And you knew he was a wanted criminal from the moment he surfaced?""Yes, as I just said, but it was impossible for me to shop him. I had to consider Honour.""Consider your wife?""Yes. Her sister was his mistress and had been for years; in fact, I think she was only sixteen or seventeen when he took up with her. I was not aware of how often he returned to London, nor what Julia's relationship with him entailed. All I knew was that Julia had a very luxurious lifestyle and, on the rare occasions she visited, it wasn't all that pleasant." He gestured to the kitchen. "We live a