man named Alfred. He was found dead in an alley."
"And what's that got to do with this?"
"Yesterday, I saw the news about James White and I realized that he was exactly like Alfred. I came to the hospital to confirm that, but he'd already left. A workmate who was covering the murder of William Black showed me some photos and bingo! He told me you were working the case. That's why when I saw you at the hospital entrance I concluded you were there to see him.
"Hey! We're both on the case," Lance protested.
"Don't start, Lance," Aidan warned him.
"Very well, I can see you're irritated. I've stepped over the line. I'll leave you two alone. I was getting bored anyway and I've got a pretty wife at home waiting for me."
Lance left a note next to his empty cup and gave Carol a farewell hug. As he left the table he winked at Aidan without Carol seeing him. He left the bar, weaving through the tables.
"Don't pay any attention to Lance," Aidan told her. "He doesn't mean any harm."
"He's still worrying about you, don't you think?" she asked him, looking at him differently now that they were alone. "So why has he left us alone here? Does he think I make good company for you?"
"Lance's judgement isn't too hot. He thinks any female company is good for me."
"And that isn't true?"
Aidan didn't answer. He looked away and kept his thoughts to himself.
"I guess, it's not easy," she went on. "After a first meeting, when you accused me of writing about you without being informed, I did a little investigative work of my own. It had to be very hard to lose your wife the way you did." She stretched her hand across the table and rested it on Aidan's. He continued staring at the floor. "You are still wearing the wedding ring…"
"Why shouldn't I wear it?" he said softly, turning it around his finger.
"You love her a lot, don't you?" She watched him nod. "It must have been difficult to get over?"
"Lots of people lose loved ones. If I'd been stronger I wouldn't have committed so many mistakes since her death. And you wouldn't have had anything to write about."
"Don't be so hard on yourself. You haven't done that much wrong."
"This man Alfred that you were speaking about," he said, changing the subject, "was he short?"
Carol took a while to answer, surprised by the sudden change of direction.
"Yes. He was identical to James White. The eyes and skin too."
"What was his surname?"
"White. The same as James's."
"And the opposite of William Black," Aidan said, running the details through his mind. "Was he decapitated?"
"No, he was cut through the chest. From one side to the other."
"By a sword?"
"No. With something even bigger. It might have been an iron bar or something like that."
Aidan thought it through. It needed a better explanation than he currently had. The physical similarity, the surnames, killed by strange weapons… It was all too unusual to be a product of chance, he was convinced of that. Nevertheless, he needed more information to find out what was happening.
"Was Alfred dressed in a white suit?"
"He might have been," Carol answered, frowning. "I'm not sure. Why ask about the clothes?"
"Black was wearing a black suit when he was murdered."
"The same colour as his surname. Is that what you mean?"
"Yes," he said, thinking she must have concluded he was mad. "And White was wearing a white suit."
"It could be just coincidence?"
"Maybe, but Black's wife said the killer was dressed in white. And he was Black's double, to boot."
"This is crazy," she said. "If you follow that line where's it all going to end?"
"It's pretty obvious that this is, as you say, crazy. Black wears black, has black eyes and dark skin, while White wears white, is blond and blue-eyed. Alfred White conforms to that, according to you. And we have to believe the testimony of Mrs Black. Why would she make it up?"
"You're not suggesting James White killed William Black are you?"
"Anything's possible. But he was here in the hospital. And I don't