Free SECRET CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of suspense by MICHAEL HAMBLING

in his way. He got a right mouthful back.’
    Sophie’s hunch had paid off. Marsh had identified the band who had been playing at the pub on Friday evening, then had matched their style with bands due to play at midday. They were now in one of the other town centre pubs, talking to a tall, thin young man sipping at a beer.
    ‘I’d been there for a while and the band had arrived and wanted to get their gear inside and set up. That’s when your two turned up and decided to stand in the doorway, getting in the band’s way. It looked like there were a few cross words, then they calmed down.’
    ‘Did you hear anything that was being said?’ Marsh asked.
    ‘No. I was watching but not listening. But it looked like the tall one was a bit put out by the shorter one’s attitude towards the roadie.’
    ‘You were very observant, Mr Brodie.’
    ‘Yeah, well.’ He coughed. ‘I was looking to see if I could make a move on one of them but they were both straight. So I lost interest. When I came back from the loo a while later they’d moved into the bar. What was a bit strange was this other guy standing in the corner. He could have been watching them.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ asked Marsh.
    ‘He looked as though he was looking in their direction. But he was only there for a few minutes so I might have been imagining it . . . I probably was. It was pretty busy. He could have been watching anyone.’
    ‘Could you give us a description?’
    ‘Middle-aged, sandy hair. Small tattoo on his left wrist, but it wasn’t clear. Jeans, lumberjack shirt. He wore dark glasses. That’s what drew my attention. This was inside. Then he turned round and looked directly at me, as if he’d spotted me watching him. His look gave me the shivers. I looked away and when I turned back he’d gone, just vanished.’
    ‘I’m afraid we’ll need a statement from you, Mr Brodie. And full descriptions. By the way, did you see two women arrive?’
    ‘Nah. It was like bloody sardines once the band started playing. And to be honest, I don’t take much notice of women. Not interested. They’re around, they come in and out of view, but they don’t stick in my mind.’
    ‘Not even me?’ asked Sophie.
    ‘Fraid not. Now . . .’ He didn’t finish.
    ‘Don’t say it,’ growled Marsh.
    Sophie laughed. ‘Barry, don’t be so touchy. Take it as a compliment.’
    ‘Yeah, that’s what you should do. She’s right.’ Brodie grinned and raised his glass. ‘Here’s to the weird and wobbly world.’
    * * *
    Jimmy Melsom had spent the morning on the computer and the phone, searching for information about the two men. He hadn’t got very far. Nor had he made much headway on looking for suspicious deaths at other music festivals across the south. He’d made more progress on Sarah Sheldon’s background and had traced her ex-husband, Hugh Shakespeare.
    ‘He’s the manager of a bank in Southampton,’ he reported to Sophie. ‘I haven’t tried to contact him, but I’ve got his home address.’
    Sophie took a quick look at her watch. ‘Fine. I think Barry and I can get over there this afternoon. Maybe at long last we can start to get a clearer picture of our victim. We know that Sarah had a mobile with her, so it looks as though it was taken when she was killed. Can you do your bit, Jimmy, and try to trace that mobile’s number? There might be clues in Sarah’s address book. Forensics have still got it, so chase them about it. If anything important crops up, contact me immediately. Let’s go, Barry.’
    * * *
    Hugh Shakespeare lived in an imposing, detached house in Bitterne, an upmarket residential area east of Southampton’s city centre. The two detectives walked up a short driveway, between tidy flower beds and a neat lawn. They were a little taken aback when a stylishly dressed woman in her early forties opened the door. She spoke with a pronounced French accent.
    ‘Françoise Lassoutte,’ she said, after they had identified themselves.