Juliet cocked her lovely head to one side, and her lips twisted into a wry smile. ‘Well, it is New Year’s Day,’ she pointed out. ‘And no doubt her ghastly family have descended on her mother. So she couldn’t very well slip away today with ease. Especially in this,’ she added, indicating the snow still falling outside. ‘Her mummy-dearest wouldn’t let her!’

‘She could still have telephoned us,’ Jasper said.

‘I’m not sure they have a telephone,’ Juliet said, startling Jasper, who hadn’t really given much thought to the fact that the whole world wasn’t rich enough and privileged enough to have a telephone in their house. ‘Even if they did, she might have been too scared to use it for fear of being overheard. After what must have happened last night …’ She trailed off with a frown. ‘I wonder what went wrong, exactly? The plan should have been perfect.’

Jasper shrugged. ‘Whatever it was, let’s just hope the silly cow didn’t leave any clues behind her for our pretty little PC Plod to find.’

Juliet glanced at her brother with a wicked smile. ‘Fancy her, do you? Our lovely lady in blue?’

‘Leave off, I’m not that desperate,’ Jasper shot back, but avoiding his sister’s knowing eyes. ‘Besides, it’s not her I’m worried about so much. It’s that man she had with her. I didn’t like the look of him at all.’

‘Ah yes, the yummy Dr Ryder,’ Juliet said.

‘He’s old enough to be your father,’ Jasper objected.

‘So?’ Juliet asked archly.

Jasper stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Your disgusting love life is not my main concern at the moment. We have to face it, there might be sticky times ahead, sister dearest, and we’re going to have to come up with something to keep sweet Patsy from flipping out. Either a threat or a bribe, do you think? Or both? Come on, sis, let’s put our thinking caps on.’

Chapter 11

The next morning Trudy was just adding the finishing touches to her report when DI Jennings arrived. After giving him time to settle in, she knocked at his door and waited to be summoned.

He listened without any comment as she ran down all the pertinent points about the case, and what she’d done so far. She tried to convince herself that he probably wouldn’t be interested in Dr Ryder’s thoughts on the state of the victim’s pupils, reminding herself of all the times that he’d told her he preferred to have solid facts, not airy-fairy theories. So she helpfully left that bit out. When she’d finished, and he’d had a moment to digest what it all amounted to, he grunted.

‘I don’t like these marks in the snow around the car that might or might not have been pawprints or footprints,’ he grumbled.