She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. You did it on your own?” Ann Veronica smiled. " A detective. ” 182 Michelle said. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. She removed it. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. Her anger died and she eyed him.
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