Trudy had already noted that he was dressed in a heavy tweed suit, but no tie, and looked to have a lost a little weight since she’d last seen him. She obediently drew out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down. ‘I really can’t stay long, Dr Ryder. I have to make my way to Five Mile Drive. We’ve had a fatality,’ she added.

As she’d known it would, Clement’s handsome head turned swiftly to look at her, eyes already alight with interest, and she felt a small but distinct sense of satisfaction at his reaction. ‘Oh?’

‘A driver found dead in his car.’ Whilst she had been pleased to discover that her mentor was as eager as she was to work another case together, she felt as if the rather prosaic nature of it let them down somewhat.

Not that he seemed to feel the same way. ‘You need me?’ Clement asked eagerly. He put the saucepan of milk onto the stove and turned on the heat and glanced at her.

Trudy shot the young man hovering in the doorway a quick look and wondered what to say. If Vincent Ryder hadn’t been there, she’d already be eagerly giving him all the details, including Inspector Jennings’s strict and limiting instructions (and how they could get around them!) but now she felt as if she really was intruding. What if Dr Ryder wanted to stay at home in the warm with his son? Before she could think of a way to frame a polite refusal, however, Clement was already talking.

‘Sorry, that was stupid of me. Of course you need me. I heard from Dr Robbins only yesterday that he was up to his eyes in cases, with half his staff off with this bloody bug and others snowed in out in the suburbs. He’ll have no manpower to spare for something so routine. I’ll give him a call now and offer to have a look and pronounce death. That way, they can at least move the body, tow the car and get the obstruction cleared before the day gets really started.’

Vincent moved out of the doorway to allow his father to pass by, and a moment later Trudy heard a door open and close somewhere in the front of the house. Presumably a study or library?

‘Do the police really need to call on my father for something so basic?’ Vincent asked resentfully. His dad was no spring chicken anymore, and they’d had a late night, seeing in the new year. He should be taking it easy today. ‘He is on holiday you know.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Trudy said uncomfortably.

Vincent sighed, and began absently ladling two heaped spoonfuls of cocoa into a mug and mixing it with a little milk. From somewhere further back in the house they could just hear the coroner’s deep, rumbling voice.