‘Guess what?’ she said. ‘ Mrs Palmer-Jones thinks Ursula might have been murdered. Isn’t it exciting?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Simon said, ‘that it’s wise to make that sort of accusation without proof.’

‘Oh!’ Molly said mildly, becoming a harmless old woman who would be frightened to offend anyone. ‘I’m not making an accusation. But there are some questions surrounding my aunt’s case. It’ll be cleared up at the postmortem. I feel guilty in the way one often does when someone close dies. I feel that I should have offered more support, visited more often.’ She leaned forward confidentially. ‘I’m anxious, you see, that she might have committed suicide.’

That seemed to reassure him. It provided an excuse for her questions, her concern. She had done nothing for her aunt when she was alive but now she wanted to ease her guilt by showing she cared after Ursula’s death.

Simon treated her graciously, poured more wine and answered her questions freely while making it clear that he found them foolish. It was just the impression Molly had hoped to create. Even Jeremy seemed to relax.

‘These unfortunate allegations Ursula made on Friday night,’ Molly said. ‘I suppose there’s no possibility that they could be true?’

‘No possibility at all,’ Simon said. ‘Mr Grenville’s made it clear that he would sack immediately any keeper who used poison. He asked my advice when there was unfavourable publicity about predator control on other estates a couple of years ago. He lets the moor to a syndicate and of course it’s in his interest to have good quality shooting but it’s not something he’d jeopardise his political career for.’

‘No,’ Molly said. ‘Of course not. I see.’ She turned to Jeremy. ‘You have responsibility for the everyday management of the estate,’ she said. ‘You would know, I suppose, if one of the keepers was using poison.’

‘Yes,’ Jeremy said. ‘ I think I would. I took a course in estate management after my degree. We had a series of lectures from the RSPB’s investigations officer about the consequences of using poison. It’s something I’ve always taken very seriously.’ There was hardly a trace of the stammer. What could there be to fear from this old lady? ‘Besides, there are only two keepers on the estate and we work together very closely.’ But as he spoke he remembered Danny Craven, drunk in the Crowford Hotel, and thought that he could have been up to anything.

Molly accepted another glass of wine and turned her attention back to Simon Barton. ‘I’ve already asked Joanna,’ she said. ‘ I wonder if you saw anyone going to Back Rigg late on Friday night. You can see the track from here.’