‘Loveday, sir,’ Trudy supplied helpfully.

‘Yes, thank you, Constable Loveday. You’ve been actually working on murder cases?’ Vincent said, his voice rising higher in sheer disbelief.

He stared at Trudy, trying to guess her age. She looked to him to be barely out of her teens!

‘Well, not quite,’ Clement said. ‘That is, nobody knew they were murder cases at the time. Let’s just say,’ he added on seeing his son’s puzzled features, ‘that sometimes things happen that need looking into, but they don’t really seem to require an official investigation, as such. If I get a case in my court where I feel that a verdict of accidental death, for instance, isn’t really justified, that’s when I make a fuss and we’re allowed to dig about a little. Question suspects, follow leads, that sort of thing. And recently, we were asked by the police to do some undercover digging in what was an active murder investigation.’

‘Dad! That’s a job for the police, surely?’ Vincent objected.

‘Trudy is the police,’ Clement pointed out placidly and with impeccable logic.

‘But you’re not!’ he objected. ‘You’re supposed to work in an office or the courtroom.’ Where the old man would be safe and not getting himself into trouble, he mentally added.

Clement shot his son a knowing look. ‘I’m not a complete old duffer yet, Vincent. And you could argue that making sure people don’t get away with murder does fall under my purview as a city coroner.’

‘Don’t give me that,’ Vincent snorted. ‘You’re just having a ball running around playing Sherlock Holmes!’ he accused.

Clement threw his head back and laughed. ‘And what if I am, son, hmm?’

Vincent opened his mouth, but catching the steely glint that lit his father’s eye, thought better of the pithy reply that hovered on his lips. Instead, he looked across at the young girl sitting silently at the table, patently unable to meet his eye, and felt another jolt of alarm hit him.

He remembered, a few months ago now, talking to his sister on the phone, and her remark that their father seemed to have got some of his old vim and sparkle back during the last couple of years. He had to agree, but hadn’t really thought much about why that should be so at the time. Now he suspected that he knew exactly why.

His father, who liked to be in the thick of things, had found a new way to amuse himself. Tracking down murderers, and ordering people about. It would be just the sort of thing he would relish.

But what if there was more to it than just that?