Isobel watched, amused, as the men squirmed in their chairs. "That's why you didn't find any jelly in her cosmetics bag," she said to Detective Kozinski. "I thought you were wrong, and she must have been taking her diaphragm out."
"No," said Detective Kozinski, "we were pretty sure she was putting it in. There were no traces of semen or jelly." She gave a wan smile. "I just assumed she hadn't read the accompanying literature thoroughly."
"This is bullshit!" Frank finally exploded. "Maybe you're paranoid enough to write down that kind of stuff, but there's no way of knowing that's what Doreen meant except to ask her."
"It's not bullshit."
It was Stan who spoke, in a miserable voice.
Isobel turned to him and asked gently. "How did you know it was Frank?"
Stan looked down at his fingernails, which Isobel noticed for the first time were painted a lovely plum. "The skirt."
Frank opened his mouth and started to say something, but thought better of it.