“Why did you come to Rushy yesterday?” he said to Adam.

Ella looked angry, as if she were preparing to protest at this treatment of the boy, but she said nothing.

George’s voice was cold, and Adam seemed perplexed, a little hurt.

“To go birding,” he said firmly. “ The weather looked good.”

“Without your binoculars.”

“I was hitching. I didn’t want to bring all the gear. I thought I could borrow some.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it.”

Adam shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he was prepared to say nothing more. Although he still looked frail, George sensed that any attempt to make him talk was futile. But, feeling that he had to try, he asked with heavy sarcasm:

“While you were ‘ birding’ on the marsh, did you meet anyone you knew? Did you see Bernard Cranshaw for instance?”

“Bernard Cranshaw?” The boy seemed genuinely puzzled. “ No, why?”

“What about Tina or Peter Littleton or Rob Earl? They were out on the marsh all afternoon.”

“I might have seen them about.” He refused to say more.

George watched in silence as the boy gathered the plates together and defiantly left the room. They could hear the sounds of washing up in the scullery.

“Has he said anything to you?” George asked Ella.

“I haven’t asked him,” she answered pointedly. “He’s only a boy. He’s been through enough.”

“Has he had any visitors? Has anyone been here asking about him?”

“That Tina came in to see him not long ago. She seems a nice girl, though she wears those funny clothes. I left them alone together, but I don’t think she got any more out of him than you did. I reckon she was upset when she went.”

“Don’t let him go out by himself this afternoon, and don’t let him see anyone else on his own.”

She did not understand. George explained:

“Whatever he says, someone tried to kill him. I don’t want that person to have the opportunity to try again.”

Her imagination was captured by the situation. She became the heroine of countless television spy films. She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“Just leave it to me,” she said. “ You can trust me to look after him.”

Despite himself, George smiled. He asked:

“Did you see Adam yesterday?”

She shook her head, disappointed that she could contribute nothing more.

“Did you see Bernard Cranshaw around the Windmill yesterday afternoon?”

“I’d arranged to meet him there at quarter to five.” Her voice rose angrily. “And what he wanted to see me about I don’t know. I waited until quarter past and then I went.”

“Was the Windmill locked up all afternoon?”

“No. Sandra went home at dinnertime and Jack and I were out in the van picking up china and glass from the village, but we came back a couple of times to deliver the wine and the puddings.”

Molly and George started back to Peter’s cottage. George was walking very fast.

“I was able to talk to quite a few of the twitchers in the café,” Molly said. “Most of them were here yesterday morning, but they all went off to Fenquay for the tide in the afternoon. It seems rather odd. No one saw Adam at all. But Adam won’t tell me in any detail what he was doing in the morning, or even what time he got here, so it’s difficult to check.”