‘Now, look, I’m going to come straight to the point,’ Torode began. ‘Quite frankly, I could use any help I can get with this one. I’ve been over to the crime scene and I can tell you, I don’t like the look of it. Tied to a chair with parcel tape and one hand left free. What the hell’s that all about?’

Hawthorne didn’t reply.

‘All right. It’s clear that we need to come to an arrangement, you and I. You work as a consultant now. Is that the right job description?’

‘It’ll do,’ Hawthorne said.

‘Well, I know your reputation. I made a few phone calls before I came over and I can say, hand on heart, that it would be wonderful to have you on board. I’d be the first to admit that you’ve got much more chance of solving this than me, but I’m sure we’d both agree that’s irrelevant anyway. The most important thing is to catch the bastard who did it and make sure he’s put away.’

‘There are a lot of small-size steak and kidney puddings, sir.’ Whitlock was peering into the fridge. ‘There are also some sausages on sticks.’

‘Chuck some of them into the microwave. And where’s the tea?’

‘On its way . . .’

Torode rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands in front of him. ‘So here’s what I’m proposing. I’ll run the police investigation. I’ll do it by the book – interviews, fingerprints, CCTV and all the rest of it. At the same time, you can mount a second investigation, in parallel. You can talk to whoever you like, go wherever you want. I’ll give you complete carte blanche. You’re going to be stuck on Alderney for the foreseeable future anyway, as obviously we can’t let anyone leave. But this way you won’t be wasting your time.’

‘Are you going to pay me?’

‘I have to be honest with you, Hawthorne. We may run into a little difficulty there budget-wise. I’ll be happy to put in a word with the Committee for Home Affairs, but I can tell you now they’re not going to like it, and they control the purse strings. It’s against the rules. Or rather, there aren’t any rules regarding the use of freelancers, as far as I know. But I’m reasonably confident that we’ll be able to work something out . . . some sort of special contract. How does that sound?’

Hawthorne shrugged. He didn’t really have any choice.

‘How’s that tea coming, Jane?’

‘It’ll just be a minute, sir.’ Whitlock was rummaging through the cupboards. It was hardly a testament to her investigative skills that so far she had been unable to find a tea bag.