Since it was perishing outside, after introducing themselves, Clement had suggested they sit in the car, with the engine and heater running. Patsy had taken one look at the younger man’s good looks and manly form, smiled at him widely, and quickly agreed.

Even as they walked to the car, she was assuring them that she needed their protection, and had clung on to Vincent’s arm throughout the short walk. She was adamant that she had important information about the dead man, and that he had probably been murdered. And that she should know. She’d been with him that night!

That alone had been enough to make father and son exchange surprised and slightly wary glances.

Both of them were thinking that this headstrong and rather voluble young lady was, perhaps, too good to be true. An eyewitness at last – and at this late date?

And with this latest breath-taking statement, father and son again shared a worried look between them. They’d both heard about witnesses coming forward to confess to crimes they hadn’t committed, or trying to insert themselves into criminal cases out of some sort of compulsion or quest for attention or to get into the limelight.

Was that what they were dealing with now?

Clement, unlike his son, still sat facing forward, so he positioned the driving mirror so that he could see the back-seat passenger’s face clearly.

‘I’m sorry, Miss, er …’

‘Arles, Patsy Arles,’ the young girl said cheerfully. ‘How do you do – again.’ She giggled.

At this, Clement suddenly remembered that they’d introduced themselves to her at her doorstep, and that she’d confirmed that she was indeed Patsy Arles, the same girl who’d telephoned and asked to speak to someone about the Terry Parker case. And he’d forgotten her name.

He felt a nasty jolt rip through him at this further sign that his mental capacities were being slowly but surely nibbled away by Parkinson’s, and pushed the thought aside violently. It might not, after all, be necessarily true. He was of an age, anyway, when short-term memory started to lessen.

‘Yes, Miss Arles, of course,’ he forced himself to say calmly, and to keep his mind firmly on the matter at hand. ‘Did you say that someone had asked you to er … vamp the dead man?’ Clement asked cautiously. ‘That is, Mr Terrence Parker?’

‘Not just someone. The twins! I told you,’ Patsy corrected him kindly.

‘Er, yes, so you did,’ Clement acknowledged. ‘The twins being Jasper and Juliet Vander?’ he clarified briskly.

‘That’s right. I nearly died when they asked me!’ Patsy sighed as she remembered that wonderful night. ‘That Juliet remembered me from school, and actually sought me out and spoke to me! She’s so glamorous and popular. I was so flattered, I can’t tell you!’