‘Oh,’ George said. ‘ Perhaps I didn’t explain. Mr Grenville asked me to find out if there was any truth in Ursula’s allegations. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’

‘He didn’t say anything about it to me.’

They stood, awkwardly, looking at each other.

‘It seems a coincidence,’ George said, ‘that there should be a poisoning incident on the weekend when Mr Grenville was holding his conference to consider environmental policy. It’s almost as if someone wanted to embarrass him deliberately. Is there anyone who dislikes him enough to do that?’

Liddle did not reply directly. He was very flushed. ‘I’ve listened to enough,’ he said angrily. ‘You’re all the same, you people from the city who come to the countryside and tell us how to carry on. I’m going to look at the birds.’

He whistled to his dog, expecting the usual immediate obedience, but the dog seemed excitable and did not respond. It bounded through the open door of the shed and pushed into the corner with its nose, its hind quarters moving violently from side to side. Liddle whistled to it again but it took no notice and he had to go into the shed to pull it out by its collar.

In the corner, hidden by a propped-up wheelbarrow, was a plastic bag. George had seen it but dismissed it as containing perhaps some rotting garden waste.

‘What is that?’ he said. ‘Do you think I could see?’

Liddle brought it out, trying to restrain the dog with one hand, carrying the plastic bag with the other. He was giving his full attention to controlling the dog and it was George who saw the buzzard’s claws extending from the neck of the bag. He took it from Liddle, trying to hold back his excitement. The bird’s probably been there for years, he thought. But when he untied the string from the top of the bag he saw that the bird was too fresh to have been there for years and in the corner of the bag, damp but still legible, was a till receipt. It was an itemised, computerised list of all the articles bought. There were many tins of cat food recorded on the receipt and it was dated the Friday of Ursula’s death.

Marie stared in horror at the creature. George lifted it from the bag and held it by the legs.

‘You fool,’ she said, almost hysterical. ‘ I thought you said you had nothing to do with that.’

‘It’s true,’ Vic said. ‘I didn’t even know it was there.’

He moved some steps away from them as if he wanted to distance himself from all responsibility for it. The dog was quieter and lay panting at his feet.

‘Look,’ he said to them both. ‘I’m telling the truth. You’ll have to believe me.’