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painting the spare-room ceiling.

‘What news, friends?’ he called down.

‘We know!’ Amanda cried joyfully, still holding the bundled-up Tempest. ‘We know who Lucy is!’

‘Worked it out, did you?’

‘The name on the doorbell: Lucy – Lucia. That was the first clue, wasn’t it?’ asked Amanda.

‘Lucy is just the name on the door. There is no Lucy. No such person as Lucy,' added Trelawney.

‘Because Lucy is a multiple, plural,’ finished Amanda in triumph.

Hogarth made a final sweep of the roller and descended the ladder, smiling.

‘Well done. Keep going.’

‘Lucy is the name on the documents and the birth certificate,' said Amanda. 'Zoe was once Lucy before she was traumatised by being trapped in that school. Alone with no allies she could trust, no escape, no way out. Cut off. Then the children getting sick, and a death. It was a reality she couldn't handle, so she created Elodie. Elodie who dealt with it for years until it grew beyond her, and a son of the house started making advances, so they made Marielle. Then Peter to strategise, and then Geoffrey to protect them all. But all in the same body.'

‘There’s even a research article,' put in Trelawney, ‘about a scan that showed the personalities in different parts of the brain in the same body.’

‘Very good,’ Hogarth praised them. ‘You see why it took me a while to get my head around it, all that time ago?’

‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Trelawney. ‘I’d heard of it and seen horror and thriller films of multiples where one of the personalities goes crazy or something.’

‘Yes,’ sighed Hogarth, ‘a lot of bad press has led to a great deal of pain and secrecy. But “Lucy” survived. The five personalities became a family. A happy family with a happy life. They wouldn't have it any other way now.’

‘I see that,’ said Trelawney.

‘So, no wonder you called it the strange case of Lucy Penlowr,’ acknowledged Amanda.

Hogarth smiled and put a cover on the roller tray.

‘You can congratulate yourselves.’

‘It was the inspector,’ explained Amanda. ‘He said something to me about being grownup, and then I remembered how Dr Bertil Bergstrom used to say I was nine years old, always nine.’

‘You’ve done splendidly. However, you — as was my own case back then — have only solved part of the puzzle. And not the main part either. The cold case: who was responsible for the flash of light, the spell that killed the Lord of the Dowrkampyer clan? Who cut the head from the snake?’

With that, Hogarth packed them off, saying it was time to wash his roller and go to bed.

Chapter 26

Proposal

‘It had to have been a Cardiubarn or a Flamgoyne who killed Mordren Dowrkampyer,’ opined Amanda.

‘Or another Dowrkampyer,’ returned Trelawney.

‘True,’ she readily admitted. ‘The Cardiubarns were bumping each other off all the time to get to the top of the heap. That much I did learn from those horrifying afternoons with my great-grandmother.’

‘Ditto the Flamgoynes.’

‘Maybe the Dowrkampyers had the same urge. Maybe Frongar, the son, did it. But how do we get any further than just ideas?’

‘We do what all good police detectives do in such a situation,’ replied the inspector. ‘We wait, and we listen.’

***

As Trelawney took up his spoon to indulge in the sticky toffee pudding on his plate, he became aware that Hogarth was regarding him a little ruefully. Trelawney looked back at him questioningly.

‘Now this becomes a little more my story again,’ Hogarth began. ‘For you see, I had most inconveniently ... and perhaps reprehensibly,’ he added, looking again at Trelawney, ‘fallen in love with Lucy, the whole family: the Lucy family. And I deeply desired to make them my own family and to become a part of theirs.’

Thomas was stunned. His mentor of so many years, it was now transpiring, had had feet of clay. He had always seemed the epitome of professionalism. A little unorthodox at times perhaps but ... fallen in love with a ... a witness? How could he have ...? A memory flashed into Thomas’s mind. A certain New Year’s Eve, not so many months ago ... Midnight under the dancing lights in the dark. Miss Cadabra ... he had had the impulse to .... of course, he hadn’t acted on it. Of course not. And yet ... at times ... since then. Thomas flushed. He was uneasily aware that he was standing in a metaphorical glass house and was in no position to cast the first stone.

‘Well,’ he finally murmured, ‘I have to admit, I didn’t see that one coming. My blind spot.’

Hogarth looked at Trelawney apologetically, ‘Have I lowered myself irredeemably in your esteem, Thomas?’

Trelawney smiled unwillingly.

‘Of course not. We are police officers, but we are human beings first.’

‘Well spoken, lad. Perhaps you’ll agree that I would not have been the first to fall for a witness in a cold case.’

‘But the case was still open, wasn’t it?’ Trelawney replied, deftly dodging the issue.

‘Yes, Thomas. And I do realise, I assure you, how irregular my feelings and my subsequent actions were. And I hope that you will not disapprove of me too deeply, as I continue my confession.’

Trelawney relaxed at that and grinned.

‘I’m sure I should be the last person to do so. After all the slack you have cut me over the years.’

‘Very little was needed, lad.’

‘Oh, but Inspector,’ implored Amanda. She had sat silent, seeing Hogarth and Trelawney were directing their words to one another. Clearly, there was some undercurrent going on here that she could not fully grasp. To her, a rule was a rule. However, Normals were more elastic about such concepts. Then again, was Uncle Mike a Normal? She didn't know what he was, now she came to think of it. One thing she did know, however:

‘Inspector, aren’t you glad

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