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“Oh, hello ossi—offi—hello.” Marina did her best to look casual and relaxed. “Is there a problem?”

“Good evening, ma’am, are you the homeowner?”

“Yes.” Minimal answers. Best plan. She didn’t want to have to kill this guy.

There was only one of them, which was a good sign. They would send more than one to a murder scene. There would be sirens and forensic vans. Maybe firearms.

“We’ve had a report about a disturbance.”

Gunshot? Music? Women coming and going carrying body parts?

“Oh?”

“Have you noticed anyone trespassing on your property?”

She shook her head. Her pupils were probably crazy dilated. She wished for sunglasses. But then it was after midnight. So that might also be suspicious.

Also, did her house stink of weed? She tried to sniff, surreptitiously, but everything smelled like weed to her anyway.

“My daughter did find an Oreo,” she offered.

“An Oreo?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Well, your neighbors have made a report of someone climbing over the fence between your property and theirs.”

“Tonight?”

“That’s correct, ma’am. Would you mind if I had a look at the area of the fence and your garden?”

“This is the Andersons, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Was there any incriminating evidence in the back garden? They had collected all the blood-soaked rags and towels and gloves and clothes, plus the rug and other textiles from the bomb shelter, to burn. But all of that was in the cellar. She had a sudden and almost irresistible urge to run and check that it was all still there, safe, and hidden, and not disturbed by whoever was climbing over fences.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” She came outside and shut the door behind her. “We can go round the side of the house. I’ve got some girlfriends over.”

And there went the “we don’t know each other” alibi out the window. Or had they already decided against that one?

The police officer followed her. “So, your garden is accessible from the front?”

“Yes, if you open the front gate and this side gate.”

“Are they normally locked?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Do you have any security cameras?”

For a moment she was alarmed, thinking, Oh no, the security cameras would have recorded everything . Then she remembered she didn’t have any.

“No.”

In the back, he went straight to the section with the horse chestnut tree. He shone his flashlight all around the grass and the base of the tree.

“Do you see anything?”

He didn’t answer her. She checked over her shoulder to make sure that all the curtains and blinds at the back of the house were still closed. Should she mention that she suspected that someone had been watching the house? But that would just make the police more interested, and that was absolutely the last thing she wanted to happen.

“Is that a tree house?” He shone his flashlight upward into the branches. “How long has it been here?”

“Years. Since I was a little girl.”

He examined the ladder, and then went over to the fence.

“Your neighbors say that they’ve had trash thrown over the fence from this garden.”

“They thought it was me throwing it because I complained to them at one point. They have quite a lot of construction going on, you see. It’s very noisy.”

“Did you throw it?”

“No.”

“How about your children?”

“I don’t send my children out to play with cans of Monster. Also, they’re not tall enough yet to reach the bottom rung of the ladder or throw anything over the fence. So, no.”

He nodded, but she couldn’t tell if he agreed with her or not. “Well. I don’t see any signs of a disturbance, but it would be easy enough to drop into their garden from this tree house, and your back garden is accessible from the street. If your children are playing out here especially, I’d recommend you get a lock for that side gate.”

What kind of world did they live in, where you had to lock children in their own back garden? She’d kill anyone who threatened her children.

The thought sobered her up a little.

“Construction sites are very popular with thieves,” the policeman told her, as they walked back round the side of the house. “The price of copper keeps going up. Pipes, electrical wires. It’s a good idea to review your home security. This place is pretty antiquated in that respect.” He fiddled with the latch on the gate before shutting it behind them. “A lot of people like those video doorbells. Get your husband to do a bit of research.”

It is a bad idea to punch a police officer when you are high and have spent the evening disposing of a body .

A curtain twitched on the side of the house. She glanced up to see Lilah peering through the parlor window, eyes wide. Opal’s face appeared above hers. Marina shook her head and shrugged elaborately, and they both ducked behind the curtain.

“Thank you, I will definitely do that.”

“Plenty of crazies out there, even in a nice neighborhood like this.”

“Oh,” she said, “don’t worry. I will be very careful.” She paused on the front path. “By the way, can you give me some advice while you’re here?”

“Of course.” He puffed a little.

“I do have some garden waste that I’d like to burn. Just a small, controlled bonfire away from fences and trees. Is that legal?”

“As long as the smoke doesn’t create a nuisance for the neighbors,” he said, with exaggerated patience. “And you’re very careful to keep it away from anything that could go up. And you’ll need to keep an eye on your children.”

“Thank you so much!” She actually batted her eyelashes at him, but it was probably too dark for him to see. Not a bad thing, because she wasn’t sure if she’d done it right. “I’ll be sure to do it exactly as you say, so I know I’m on the right side of the law.”

“You’re welcome. Get a lock for that side gate.”

“I will, as soon as possible, I promise,” she simpered.

Once back inside, she collapsed against the door with mixed relief and triumph.

Why had she never understood that it could be such an advantage to be underestimated?