Clement sighed, but reluctantly agreed. He could only ask so much of her, after all. He sat in the car for an anxious few minutes as his friend went inside the station, and it wasn’t until he saw her emerge, smiling, that he felt himself relax.

‘He wasn’t in,’ she said needlessly and happily, as she got back into the car beside him. ‘But we’d better make the most of our time. What do we do first?’

‘Well, first we go to my place, and discuss things. We’ve a lot to do, as you said, and not much time left to do it in. But we’re in luck there,’ he added, turning the ignition on the car, and cautiously backing his car’s nose out of the snowdrift.

‘Oh?’ Trudy said.

‘Yes. Vincent has offered to help,’ Clement said brightly.

Trudy’s heart fell a bit as she contemplated that mixed blessing. ‘Oh,’ she said faintly.

*

But any fears that she might have had that Vincent Ryder would turn out to be a bit of a wet blanket fell by the wayside the moment they started to discuss the case.

In the coroner’s warm and cosy study, with chairs gathered around the roaring fire as they had their council of war, it quickly became apparent that the younger Ryder was definitely going to be an enthusiastic part of the team.

On the drive to the house, however, Trudy had had to insist that any contribution Vincent might make had to be kept a total secret from Inspector Jennings, who really would have apoplexy if he learned that a member of the public had been given intelligence into an ongoing investigation. Which meant, unfair or not, it would be left to Trudy to claim any credit for anything Vincent might contribute. And if, deep inside, she doubted that Clement’s son would be of any viable use at all, she was tactful enough to keep her opinion from Dr Ryder.

Now, as they sat in front of the fire, Clement spoke first.

‘All right. So, what do we know?’ he began briskly. ‘We know Terry Parker is a bit of a ladies’ man. We know he’s very reticent about his past. We know he’s a thief, who quite happily stole from his business partner. We know – or at least can reasonably surmise – that he was planning on marrying Millie Vander for her money. We know he attended Millie’s party, where he must have, somehow, ingested a commonplace sleeping draught. I did some preliminary research on the barbiturate used, which would probably have started to take effect within fifteen minutes of consumption, depending on a person’s individual physical tolerance to such drugs. Some patients can start to feel drowsy very quickly, whilst with others it can take longer.’