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Laughter circled the room.

“All right, calm down. It’s all very suspicious. Plum was a sixty-year-old bachelor. From what I’ve seen, he had an active sex life.”

“Wish I did,” shouted a voice from the back.

Gardener smiled and continued. “He had books, DVDs, and toys. What could he possibly use them for if he never came into contact with anyone?”

He suddenly thought about Olive Bradshaw.

“From the people I’ve spoken to, it would appear he and his landlady were conducting a relationship of sorts. One of her lodgers suggested as much. Olive Bradshaw claims he was often late with the rent, but she didn’t appear to have had a problem with it. Which further compounds the theory. She claims she was at the Bingo Hall on Dewsbury Road between six-thirty and ten-thirty.

“Someone check that out, please. There were lots of nods and glances to each other when we interviewed her and her sister. Told me they knew more than they were letting on. If they know more, I want to know more. I want the answers to three serious questions. Who killed Plum? Why? And with what?”

Sensing the briefing was over, the team started to leave.

Returning to the pathology report, Gardener read the list of items recovered from the crime scene, noting an entry for something called Papaverine.

“Just a minute, lads, before you go. There’s a record of something called Papaverine in the path report. Who found the pills, and where? Any idea what they’re for?”

“I did,” said Steve Fenton. “They were in a bedroom cupboard. No idea what they do, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” replied Gardener. “I’ll ring Fitz now.”

Gardener left Reilly to deal with any queries as he went back to his office and dialled the pathologist. It rang six times before Fitz answered.

“Fi

tz? It’s Stewart. A small problem you might be able to help me with.”

“Go on.”

“I’m looking at an entry on the list of items recovered from the crime scene. Small bottle of pills, they’re called Papaverine. Any idea what they are?”

“I shouldn’t think you need them. You’re still a young man.”

Gardener’s interest piqued. “So, what are they?”

“A sexual stimulant. Normally supplied by doctors to help with a failing libido.”

“Thanks, Fitz. I’ll keep in touch.”

As he replaced the receiver, he sat back in his chair. The mystery deepened.

Chapter Sixteen

Gardener glanced at his watch. It was a little after eleven o’clock. He made himself a green tea before bed even though he knew it wouldn’t help. A complete jumble of thoughts stirred in his mind. Apart from last night’s gruesome discovery and the troubling encounter at the cemetery, he found himself thinking of Jacqueline Bâlcescu. He liked her; found her reassuring.

He enjoyed her company and, aside from today, their conversations never felt awkward. He could tell she was a well-educated woman with expensive tastes, who knew what she wanted out of life.

They had much in common.

He found her wide, sensuous smile inviting. He liked her chestnut-coloured hair with its healthy sheen in its short, fashionable bob. He appreciated the fact she wore little to no makeup.

He even found the chip in her tooth an attractive feature.

He saw her around the village regularly. Over the last few months when visiting Sarah’s grave, they had spent more time together. He’d begun to wonder whether or not he should move on with his life, which always brought on a sudden pang of guilt. Sarah had only been in her grave a year. During that time, he’d paid little heed to other women and the feelings they stirred in him.

Now he found himself consciously aware he had feelings for the female minister.

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