No Mark Upon Her

struggling to find coherent words through the haze of his anger. “Angus Craig had both the motive and the physical proximity to have murdered Rebecca Meredith. Did you expect me to ignore that?”
    “I expected you to do your job professionally and thoroughly. I still do. And I expect you not to make unsubstantiated allegations against another officer.
    “And now,” added Childs, levering his still considerable bulk up from his chair, “I’m afraid I’ve got family obligations. Diane’s sister has come to stay for a fortnight. Damned nuisance.” He moved towards the door, but turned back as he reached it. “Oh, and Duncan, I expect you to keep me informed.”
    Kincaid had been dismissed.
    “ ‘O Mouse, do you know the way out of this pool?’ ” read Kincaid a few hours later, doing his best to sound like Alice. “ ‘I am very tired of swimming about—’ ”
    “No.” Charlotte slipped her hand under his and turned the pages back. “Read t’other part again.”
    “You mean the part about the little girl who was covered from her toes to her nose?” He sat at the head of her small white bed, book in his lap, and she had scooted over to make room for him.
    Having left the Yard straight after his interview with Denis Childs, he’d come home to find the household in the full chaotic flow of evening routine.
    “What are you doing home?” Gemma had asked when he’d finally managed to kiss her, having been boisterously greeted by both the dogs and the younger children. “I thought you’d be back in Henley for at least another night.”
    “Got a date with the milkman again?” he’d quipped.
    But Gemma had seen his face. Frowning, she said, “What’s happened? Is—”
    He’d shaken his head as Toby broke in. “Who’s the milkman? We don’t have a milkman.”
    “Never you mind,” Kincaid told him. “And don’t interrupt your mum.”
    Toby was undeterred. “Kit’s making a stir-fry. He let me chop. Want to help?”
    “Help you chop your fingers off? Of course I do.” And so he had let the current of home life sweep him up while he tried to sort out his thoughts.
    It had been his turn to read to Charlotte while Gemma gave Toby his bath. It was Charlotte who had chosen the book, Kit’s old copy, found on the sitting-room bookshelf. Kincaid had raised an eyebrow at Gemma when he saw it. “Isn’t she a bit young for Alice ?”
    Gemma shrugged. “Not according to her. She won’t have anything else at the moment. And I’m rather liking it.”
    “You didn’t read it as a child?” he’d asked, surprised. But Gemma’s family had not been readers, and the children’s books were proving a voyage of discovery for her.
    Now Charlotte giggled as he pulled the duvet up to the tip of her nose, but she promptly tugged it down again and tapped the book. “No. The Drink Me part.”
    Obediently, he found the right page and began. “ ‘What a curious feeling!’ said Alice, ‘I must be shutting up like a telescope.’
    “And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further: she felt a little nervous about this, ‘for it might end, you know,’ said Alice to herself, ‘in my going out altogether, like a candle. I wonder what I should be like then?’ ”
    “Poof,” Kincaid interjected, and blew out an imaginary flame.
    “You put that in,” said Charlotte. “That’s not fair, making things up.”
    “The man who wrote the story, Lewis Carroll, made it all up. The whole thing.”
    Charlotte’s eyes grew big, then she shook her head. “Even Alice?”
    “Including Alice.”
    “No,” Charlotte said with absolute certainty. “That’s silly. It’s Alice’s story. Do you think Alice liked getting littler?”
    Kincaid gave the question consideration. “I don’t know. Would you?”
    Charlotte shook her head. “No. I want to get bigger.”
    This gave Kincaid a pang, but he said, “Then you should close your eyes and go to sleep, because the sooner it’s tomorrow, the closer it will be to your birthday.”
    “Really?”
    “Really.”
    “All right.” Charlotte shut her eyes tight, but after a moment they flew open again. “Will you stay until I’m fast asleep?”
    “Yes. I promise.”
    “Will you check on me after?”
    “Yes. Now snuggle up, and