‘You can’t even guess?’
‘No.’
I joined her at the window.
‘Mrs. Dedrick, there’s a question I would like to ask you.’
She continued to stare out of the window. The flamingoes were looking towards the house, stiff, upright and crochety.
‘Well?’
‘Do you think Nick Perelli kidnapped your husband?’
‘Of course.’
‘Why of course? Why so sure?’
She made an impatient movement.