“Tell me more about your husband, Mrs Newsome,” said Rathe, his voice gentle and trustworthy.
Elizabeth appeared not to have heard him. “Her name is Michelle Leverton. I don’t think I’ve ever said her name out loud before, but it has burned in my mind constantly for six months. I don’t really know anything about her but I despise everything there is about her. Perhaps that does make me sound like a lunatic.”
“No,” muttered Rathe. “I think it makes you sound human.”
She thanked him silently, with a smile which showed appreciation and gratitude. “I’d suspected something for a long time. You don’t share your life with somebody for almost twenty years and not learn enough about them to know when they are keeping secrets from you.”
“What made you suspicious?”
She lowered her head, as thoug
