James Craig - Acts of Violence

He gestured towards the painting. ‘I was just wondering, given your interest in recent German history, whether you knew a woman called Sylvia Tosches?’

Staring at the front door, Hutton appeared lost in thought. ‘I know of her,’ she said quietly. ‘She was an associate of Baader, Meinhof and the rest. Not a major player, but part of the wider ensemble.’

The inspector eyed her carefully, waiting to see if she would say more.

‘She escaped from police custody, as I recall.’ Hutton restarted along the hall, walking like a deep-sea diver edging along the sea bed. ‘Vanished.’

‘That’s a hard trick to pull off.’

‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ With an excess of concentration showing on her face, Hutton reached for the door handle. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I had a run-in with her son recently.’

‘Oh?’ Opening the door, she took a moment to compose herself. ‘I didn’t know that she had children.’

‘No reason that you would.’ Carlyle stepped past her, out onto the street.

‘And what was the son doing in London, Inspector?’

‘He was looking for his mother.’

‘And did he find her?’ Standing on the doorstep, Barbara Hutton wrapped the cardigan tightly around her chest, scanning the heavens as if searching for Divine salvation.

‘I’m afraid not.’ Carlyle gave a rueful smile. ‘Some things just don’t get resolved, do they?’