spent the rest of the evening. They had seen no one waiting outside the Jester.
Not, as Webb remarked to Jackson on the way home, the most fruitful of days.
To his wife's frustration, Frederick was uncommunicative about his television interview, and became increasingly restless as the time for its transmission drew near.
'I'm not at all sure I shall bother watching it,' he announced. 'I know what I said, after all.'
'You most certainly will,' Edwina told him. 'I've no intention of sitting here all by myself. A little less of the false modesty, if you please.'
'It's not that,' he retorted. 'What irritated me is, we were supposed to be discussing The Muddied Pool, but I was inveigled into talking about the new book. You know how I hate doing that until it's all safely finished.'
'Think of it as advance publicity,' she advised serenely.
Even so, at nine o'clock it was necessary to call him in from the garden for the start of the programme. With a glance at the screen, he went to pour them both a glass of whisky before settling, with a resigned sigh, beside her.
Frederick now appeared on the screen, seated opposite Gregory Page, the programme's presenter.
'I'm glad we settled on that tie,' Edwina remarked with satisfaction. 'It looks most distinguished.'
'My dear, if you want to watch the programme, let us watch it, without a running commentary on my attire.'
She smiled and patted his hand, sensing his tension.
'Now, Mr Mace,' Page was saying, 'you're just back from a tour of Canada to promote your book. The Muddied Pool, which is described as â' he consulted the notes in front of him â "an in-depth analysis of the criminal mind". Can you tell me â?'
The interview proceeded for several minutes along expected lines. It was, Edwina thought, very similar to those she had sat through on the tour, and as a consequence Frederick was well versed in the answers and appeared relaxed and at his ease.
Then the camera turned to Page, who shifted in his chair as if preparing for a change of topic. 'I understand you've already made a start on your new book?'
Frederick's surprise was evident. 'Yes, I'm about halfway through.'
'Have you decided on the title?'
Frederick was silent for several seconds, looking down at his hands in his lap. Then, overcoming his reluctance to speak of it, he said, 'It will be called The Ten Commandments. '
Edwina, who hadn't known that, glanced at him, but he made no response.
Dealing with the breaking of them, I presume?' the interviewer prompted.
'In a way, yes.'
Page gave a short laugh. 'Really, Mr Mace, you're being very reticent. Surely you can tell us something about it? I don't doubt your public out there are agog to know more.'
Frederick hesitated a moment longer, then appeared to admit defeat. 'Well, this might sound simplistic, but it struck me that if everyone kept the Ten Commandments, there would be virtually no crime.'
The camera panned in on Page's raised eyebrow, and Frederick went on quickly, 'Oh, I'm aware that from the legal standpoint you can break all but three with impunity. Only murder, theft and false witness are criminal offences, but my point is that in a great many cases, the motive for a crime lies in someone else â possibly the victim himself â having broken a Commandment.'
'That's quite a contention.'
'But worth examining, I felt. So to illustrate the theory, I decided to study ten criminal cases, each of which could be linked with the breaking of a different Commandment, either in the crime itself or, of more interest to me personally, the motive behind it.'
He gave a slight smile. 'As you'll appreciate, it was necessary to go back quite a long way in respect of the first five, which, alas, only fundamental religions still adhere to. Taking the name of the Lord in vain is commonplace, we opted not to keep holy the Sabbath day, and so on. The flouting of those is unlikely to provoke any violent reaction today. However, by diligent