‘Done,’ Clement repeated with a chuckle and hung up, feeling pleased with himself. With a bit of luck, he and Trudy would be able to investigate the little mystery and have it all sewn up in a ribbon before Inspector Jennings knew what hit him!

Of course, if their victim’s dilated pupils were caused by a blow to the head, and the tox screen revealed nothing of interest, that wouldn’t take long.

On the other hand …

Mentally rubbing his hands together in delight at the thought of investigating another suspicious case with his young friend, Clement went into the kitchen, where, for just a split second, he was surprised to see his son standing over the stove, stirring a boiling saucepan.

He had forgotten all about Vincent being there.

But only for a split second, and only, he reassured himself, because he’d become distracted by the thought of working again with Trudy. That was understandable, wasn’t it? His cognitive powers weren’t really showing signs of deteriorating that much …

‘You all right, Dad?’ Vincent said sharply, making Clement focus his attention on his son.

Drawing out a chair from under the kitchen table, he looked at him with a brief smile. ‘Of course, why do you ask?’ he demanded crisply.

Vincent turned away. ‘Oh, nothing,’ he said casually. And Clement could only hope that his son hadn’t noticed his lapse.

*

Jasper Vander stood on the landing, careful to keep out of sight, but listening avidly to his mother in the hall downstairs. She had gone to answer the front door, and Jasper, who’d left his bedroom to do the same, had recognised the voice of the caller at once, and abruptly halted his descent. It was that rather lovely young WPC who had called earlier, returning no doubt for the bloody party invitation list they’d promised her earlier in the day.

He didn’t like that she had come back for it so diligently. At least his mother had the good sense to simply hand over the list and say goodbye, giving the constable no chance to ask any more questions.

Scowling, he made his way to his sister’s bedroom and knocked impatiently on the door. It was flung open a moment later by his twin, who scowled right back at him.

‘What? Can’t a girl listen to Cliff Richard in peace?’ she asked, but stood aside to let him pass. She walked over to the record player she kept in her large bed-sitting room and lifted the needle from the 45. ‘Bachelor Boy’ would just have to wait, though she did think Cliff Richard dreamily good-looking.

‘That woman copper’s back,’ Jasper informed her moodily.

‘To pick up the list?’

‘Yes. Persistent, isn’t she?’ Jasper sneered, flinging himself inelegantly into a Queen Anne reproduction chair that creaked under the misuse. ‘I don’t like it that they’re sniffing around, Jules.’