TRACKED When Widdowson went up to the bedroom that night, Monica was already asleep.

He discovered this on turning up the gas.

The light fell upon her face, and he was drawn to the bedside to look at her.

The features signified nothing but repose; her lips were just apart, her eyelids lay softly with their black fringe of exquisite pencilling, and her hair was arranged as she always prepared it for the pillow.

He watched her for full five minutes, and detected not the slightest movement, so profound was her sleep.