not coming clean, he sussed there was something inside the box and wouldn't stop going on and on about it."At this point, Adrian's solicitor leaned close and whispered to him; he bowed his head, listening. It was obvious that she was advising him to keep quiet. Langton swung back in his chair, and urged Adrian to tell the truth. If he assisted them and was totally honest, it would prove beneficial. He soft-soaped about how their main priority was the capture of Fitzpatrick. Adrian was nervous and sweating, but went on.D'Anton had opened the box and, never having seen the vials of Fentanyl before, asked Adrian what the stuff was. All Adrian knew about them was that Fitzpatrick had taken crates of the same stuff from Gatwick customs. Via his mobile phone, D'Anton had gone onto the Internet to find out exactly what it was. He told Adrian that it was worth a fortune and that he had a friend who could off-load the stuff. Adrian had become very anxious about the whole thing."Did he give you the name of this friend?" Langton asked.Adrian sipped at a beaker of water, unable to remember the name; just that he thought it was Italian."Donny something," he recalled after a moment. "That's all I can remember."Langton wrote down the name Donny Petrozzo, but did not repeat it to Adrian; he just began to tap the table with his pen. "Go on, Adrian. You're in the jeep with D'Anton; what happened next?"They waited as Adrian squeezed his hands together; sweat hung in small drops from his hair."Let me help you." Langton opened his folder and put down the photographs of the dead Julius D'Anton. "You have anything to do with this?""No, no, I swear before God."Langton pushed the photographs farther toward the now-shaking boy. "So, if you didn't have anything to do with this, keep talking. We are treating his death as murder, Adrian."Adrian spent a few moments whispering to his solicitor. She asked for a bathroom break to confer with her client. Langton agreed to ten nunutes. They left a uniformed officer in the room. When Langton and Anna returned to the interview room, Adrian seemed calmer. He spoke quietly, picking up from where he had left off.He said that D'Anton kept on and on at him, saying that he could help deal the drugs. He even wanted Adrian to contact Fitzpatrick, which he refused to do. By this time, Adrian had come off the motorway at a roundabout, as he wanted to head back to Brighton. At some point—he couldn't exactly remember where, but they were stuck at traffic lights—D'Anton snatched up the box and got out of the car; he spilled a whole load of the vials over the backseat. "I couldn't do anything; he was running and I was stuck in the traffic. I couldn't overtake. I saw him get into a taxi up ahead."Langton leaned forward. "Keep going.""I got back to Brighton, and I was in a real state because of what had happened. I called Fitzpatrick, told him everything. He said I had to sort it out, but I didn't know where D'Anton lived—all I had was his mobile number. I kept on calling him, but just got his answer phone. Then Fitzpatrick came back. I expected him to go ballistic, but he just made me repeat it all over again to him, and then I gave him the number."Langton looked to Anna, shaking his head. "Try that one more time, Adrian, because I don't believe you.""It's the truth!""You expect me to believe that Fitzpatrick loses drugs worth thousands and he just accepts it?""I told you, he was just really kind of calm. In a way, I'd have felt better if he'd punched me out, but he didn't.""So he made contact with D'Anton?""Yeah—well, I heard him talking to D'Anton; he said he'd like to meet this dealer. I heard him asking about customers. He repeated,'City types?' and he laughed. After he finished the call, he told me to give the house a thorough clean. He went out in the jeep about an hour later. He took the packages that had fallen out of the box and put them in a plastic carrier bag. I spent two days cleaning up, wiping all the surfaces as he had instructed me, then I went onto the boat. He didn't come back for about three days, and then he said he had to go back to the Isle of Man.""With you on board?""No. He gave me a few hundred quid, and said he would be in touch if and when he needed me. That time, he was more angry. He said that if I wanted to make a lot of money, and if I wanted to stay working for him, it was vital I keep my mouth shut.""Did he threaten you?"Adrian nodded. "He said that he would always be able to find me, and if I fouled up again, he'd kill me. I went back to college and didn't hear from Fitzpatrick for a few months. Then his boat came back to the Brighton Marina.""So during the time you were cleaning up the rented house in Brighton, he was using the jeep?""Yes."Langton opened the file and placed Julia Brandon's photograph down in front of Adrian. "Do you know this woman?""No." Nor did he recognize the property in Wimbledon or the picture of Frank Brandon. Lastly, they showed him the photograph of Donny Petrozzo. Again, he had never seen him. Langton stacked the photographs and replaced them.Adrian explained that the next time he had been contacted by Fitzpatrick was to join him on the boat moored in Chelsea harbor. He was hired to clean and get groceries; during that period, he did not drive the Mitsubishi. When he learned that Fitzpatrick's two daughters were coming on board with their au pair, Adrian prepared bunks for them.The interview was concluded but, when told he would not be released, Adrian burst into tears. Langton ended their tape recording and walked to the door; there, he glanced back at the sniveling boy and said, "It's not over, Mr. Summers."Anna didn't feel like breaking for the night, even though it was after eleven. It was hard to come down from the excitement of the day. Pete was still at the lab, so she went over to see him.Like Langton, Pete was organizing his team, listing in order of priority the items he wanted checked out. He gave Anna a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, then led her to a table with some of the forensic evidence examined that morning. "Right, the lady found strangled in the storage warehouse: we've got some hairs and the root is attached, so we can get strong DNA."Anna leaned close to him as he placed a slide under the microscope."I think she snatched at her killer's hair, because we've quite a few samples. It's very, very dark—and some kind of hair oil had been used. Not African—maybe Portuguese or South American." He moved aside for Anna to look. "We've also got fibers—wool, a distinctive color and not from the victim's clothes."Anna noticed that the pockets of his white coat were covered in blue pen stains; he looked tired. "We maybe can get a clear print off her neck: right thumb. It was pressed so hard on her larynx it left a dark bruise. We'll be lifting off using the Super Glue technique.""Are you hungry—I can order a pizza?" she asked, and he shook his head."Nope. I am going to carry on here for about another half hour, then I will need to crash out."Anna looked at her watch and said that she should probably do the same. She was more miffed at his rejection of a late-night pizza than she realized; even more so when he smiled at her and said, "Shoe on the other foot for a change!"She laughed it off and said she would talk to him in the morning. He muttered a reply, but she didn't hear it. She turned to look back at him as she reached the door, and he was already peering at something else under the microscope, his body arched. She was impressed. He seemed totally consumed by his work. She hadn't really realized before how much his work meant to him.It was after one in the morning when she finally turned in. She didn't fix anything to eat, but had a large glass of wine from a bottle left open in the fridge. Sleep didn't come easily, and she lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling.Now certain that Fitzpatrick had met up with Donny Petrozzo, she wondered if he had also met up with D'Anton. What she did know from the time frame was that the deaths of both men came almost together. Turning on her bedside lamp, Anna got up and fetched her briefcase. She climbed back into bed and took another look at the copies of the postmortem report on Julius D'Anton. The quantity of Fentanyl in D'Anton's body was very high. He was a heroin user; she wondered if he had tried out the Fentanyl, unaware of its potency— eighty times stronger than morphine.Donny Petrozzo had died from an overdose but, from the way his body had been found wrapped up, it was obvious that he had been murdered. The Mitsubishi was parked, with his body inside it, at the garage used by Frank Brandon. Anna was certain that Petrozzo s death occurred after Frank had been shot. She was so restless, trying to figure out what might have occurred. She thumped at her pillow, trying to get more comfortable, but she still couldn't sleep—this time returning to the date she and Gordon had visited the farmhouse, and had seen Adrian Summers there by the gates.Adrian had to have lied about only going to the farmhouse to deposit and then move the crates of drugs, as the time frame didn't add up. Did he also drive the injured Fitzpatrick back to the cottage? The blood trace on the bullet she had found, they had always believed came from the man standing behind Frank Brandon—and it matched the swipe taken from the jeep.She was certain Adrian knew a lot more than he had admitted to, and she was glad that Langton had not released him. Tomorrow, they would have the interrogation of Damien and Honour, but first, she wanted to have another session with Adrian Summers.