Poison Flowers by Natasha Cooper Page B

appeared in the doorway, she was able to smile at him with some of her self-protection back in place.
    â€˜Did you sleep well?’ she asked. He nodded with a schoolboy grin.
    â€˜Did you mind my going to sleep?’
    â€˜No, Tom,’ said Willow. ‘It is, I understand, a normal physiological reaction to … you know.’
    â€˜I love your primness, Will,’ he said, laughing and coming to sit on the edge of the bath. ‘It seems so out of character.’
    Willow could feel herself blushing and hoped that he would put it down to the steam from her bath, but was fairly sure that he would not.
    â€˜You know an awful lot about women,’ she said irrelevantly, washing her right foot. ‘I suppose that just means that you’ve had a lot of experience.’
    â€˜I like women,’ he said, and she believed him. ‘I really like them. Can I have that bath after you?’
    â€˜Why not have a new one?’ she said. ‘There’s plenty of hot water.’
    When they were both dressed again. Willow asked him about his talk with PC Leathwaite, adding:
    â€˜I know you’ve given me those notes, but tell me what you remember. It’ll be fresher like that.’
    â€˜He’s a bright lad,’ said Tom, leading the way out of Willow’s green-and-white bedroom towards the kitchen. ‘D’you want a cup of tea?’
    â€˜Not really,’ said Willow. ‘But do help yourself.’
    Tom went to switch on the kettle, while Willow sat in her old chair at the kitchen table.
    â€˜So? What did he tell you?’ she prompted.
    â€˜He said that Titchmell struck him as being thoroughly sound, what he called a “solid citizen”, and perfectly responsible.’
    â€˜What did that mean? Responsible for what?’
    â€˜I think he meant that Titchmell had done everything he could, short of installing a burglar alarm, to make his house burglar-proof, and when asked why he didn’t have an alarm, he explained that he thought they were anti-social and in any case did very little good.’
    â€˜Do you agree with that?’ asked Willow, diverted into leaving the investigation.
    â€˜No, on balance I think they are worthwhile,’ said Tom.
    â€˜How did they get into Titchmell’s house?’
    â€˜Chucked a brick through the kitchen window,’ said Tom. ‘And no locks are going to protect anyone against that sort of thing.’
    â€˜But didn’t anyone hear anything? Breaking glass makes a hell of a racket.’
    â€˜No one’s admitted to it, but you know the great British public. They hate reporting anything. Besides, most people who live in those streets work all day, and it seems likely that the window was broken at about half-past three in the afternoon.’
    Willow got up as soon as he had finished speaking and went into her writing room to fetch her notebook.
    â€˜What’s so important about that?’ asked Tom, fishing a tea bag out of his mug.
    â€˜Do you really want that sort of tea?’ asked Willow. ‘There’s plenty of China tea in the cupboard, and about six tea pots.’
    â€˜Yes, my dear Will, I do. I need the oomph of an Indian tea-bag. Now what is so important?’
    â€˜Obviously the break-in must have been when the murderer put the poison in the museli,’ she said. ‘And…’
    â€˜Not obviously at all,’ said Tom, sipping the scalding tea and wincing slightly. ‘Do you know how many afternoon burglaries there are every week in bits of London like Fulham and Clapham?’
    Willow shook her head.
    â€˜Nor do I, but there are plenty, believe me. It could have been the murderer, or it could have been truanting schoolchildren or professional thieves from the area, or from outside it … could have been anyone. And if it had been the murderer, he or she would have taken an unnecessary risk of getting done for burglary by lugging away a video and all