By the time Tyler and Jane had left the chapel, the family had already been driven away in the chauffeured Mercedes. The vicar excused himself as he had another service to oversee, but it was quite obvious that he was somewhat taken aback by what he had just witnessed.

Jane and Tyler were about to head towards their car when Jane felt a touch on her arm.

‘I have never in my entire life known anything like that. That wasn’t a funeral service! I’ve come all the way from Brighton – well, Hove, really – by train, then a minicab from the station.’

Jane knew immediately who it was.

‘Are you Eunice Small?’

‘Yes, dear, and I’ve come all the way from Brighton. I never expected her to be nice to me, but she just ignored me, unless she didn’t know I’d come all this way. I’m eighty-two.’

Jane turned to Tyler. ‘I would very much like to take Miss Small for a cup of tea.’

He nodded.

Jane slipped her arm into the crook of Miss Small’s. ‘Or would you prefer to have some lunch?’

‘Well, I would like something to eat as I’ve come all this way. I didn’t know whether to get up and touch the coffin or not. I’ve never known anything like it, but then that Justine never liked me. I’m a bit worried because I’m paying waiting time to the minicab.’

Jane assured her that she would cover the taxi fare and would take her to a very nice restaurant near Victoria Station.

*

Spencer, unlike Jane, hadn’t worked alongside DI Miller and was taken aback by his uncommunicative manner during the journey to Mandy Pilkington’s. Spencer had tried to make conversation but was curtly told that he had read all his reports and that he should just listen intently and, when directed, make notes. He had no intention of wanting to share any interrogation and disliked any form of interruption.

Spencer shrugged. Fine by me, he thought.

For the rest of the journey he stared through the window as Miller flicked back and forth through his small notebook, occasionally jotting down a note.

As soon as the patrol car drew up outside the ordinary-looking terraced house, Miller double-checked that his little tape recorder was working and that he had spare tapes and new batteries ready for the interview.

They got out and Miller removed the search warrant from his jacket.

It was only when they approached the front door that anything about the house looked unusual. Behind the net curtain the window was barred, and the front door had three separate large keyholes, suggesting a heavy-duty lock. The bell push gave a low buzzing noise rather than the usual ring. They waited patiently as they heard the locks on the door being undone and then the sound of a bolt at the top of the door being released.