Clement cast Trudy a questioning look, seemingly wondering if she would object to his son knowing the bare details, but she shrugged back, letting him decide. This display of tacit understanding again annoyed Vincent. It was as if they were speaking a language known only to themselves – and he just didn’t like it.

‘A man was found dead in his car on New Year’s Day. He’d been to a party the night before. Cause of death was probably due to injuries or maybe hypothermia,’ Clement said briskly. ‘But there are a few inconsistencies.’

‘Such as?’ Vincent sipped his tea, his golden-flecked hazel eyes darting from his father to the pretty young woman opposite him.

‘Possible footprints, which might be indicative of a second person at the scene, who maybe just checked out the crash site and for some reason failed to report it – or maybe not,’ Clement listed. ‘The trouble is, with all the snowfall and wind, it’s not easy to say for certain what the marks might mean. The victim had dilated pupils, which may have been caused by a concussive head injury – or maybe not. Certain irregularities in the victim’s business life – which might be relevant, or …’

‘Maybe not,’ Vincent obligingly finished for him, nodding. ‘I get it. But most likely he had a bit too much to drink and crashed the car? Knocked himself out and froze to death?’

‘That’s the most likely outcome, yes,’ Clement said and smiled. ‘But Trudy and I would both like to be sure there’s not more to it than that.’

Vincent grunted, unconsciously echoing one of his father’s habits. ‘Well, you’re clearly having a lot of fun playing sleuths. I’ll have to start reading more murder mysteries. Agatha Christie, here I come.’

Trudy smiled at him, relieved to see him finally smile back at her.

Clement regarded his son thoughtfully.

*

Geoffrey Thorpe was not a man at ease. That much was very clear from the moment he ushered them into a small snug off the main living room in his house.

A quick telephone call by Clement had confirmed that the car showroom was not open that day. It was not surprising – who was going to fight their way along treacherous, near-impassable roads in order to look at a car? It was not even as if they could take one for a test drive.

‘I wish this weather would clear,’ Geoffrey complained with a forced smile as Trudy and Clement took matching armchair seats opposite a small fireplace. ‘January is always a slow time to sell cars at the best of times but what with this …’ He indicated the white stuff outside the window and shook his head grimly. He was standing in front of the unlit fire, resting one elbow on the high marble mantelpiece, but he did not look all that casual. His eyes kept darting from them to the window and back again.