She noticed an odd new gleam in Michelle’s eyes, a focus she had not noticed before. She wondered if the second part would overcome his objections? Several times the words had rushed to her tongue, to find her tongue paralysed. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. “How have you been lately, Lucy? You’ve been such a stranger. Taking her limbs was the only thing I could do short of killing her.
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