It was only a short time later that an irate Eric Newman appeared in the agency’s reception and let all three dogs loose in the corridor of the offices.

‘What have you brought them here for, Eric?’ Rita screeched. ‘Don’t you know what’s happened to Mr. Foxley? We can’t have the dogs here. Are you stupid?’

Eric jabbed his finger at her. ‘Hey, don’t you go talking like that to me, darling. I won’t have it. I got a phone call from George Henson. You know who he is?’

Rita pursed her lips. ‘Of course I do.’

‘Right, well, Mr. Henson, who is living in Mr. Foxley’s ex-wife’s house, he tells me I gotta help out because the police have sent Toots over in an effing taxi and he tells me that he can’t look after the effing dachshund, because he’s got to go and take the ex-Mrs. Foxley to Ascot.’

‘What’s the matter with her?’ Rita asked.

‘I have no fucking idea. But I’m owed money. And Mr. Henson tells me that if I take Toots I’ll be paid by someone here at the agency. So I borrowed me friend’s van – that I need to pay him for – and pick up Toots and the other two, and I’m here ’cause I’m still owed fifteen quid and if I’m not paid now, I’m ruddy well leaving them here.’

‘You can’t do that,’ Rita said firmly.

The three dogs, Jack, the Jack Russell cross, Stick, the whippet cross and Toots, the dachshund, ran up the corridor, barking madly, tails wagging, scratching at Foxley’s door until it opened. They ran widely around the room excitedly until eventually they seemed to realize that Foxley wasn’t there. All three jumped onto one of the wing-back chairs and huddled together, whimpering sadly.

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tyler called a briefing with Jane and Spencer as soon as they returned to the station. Spencer now had a thudding headache and Jane only had time to grab a sandwich for them both before returning to the incident room. The crime scene photographs were displayed on the board, along with all the notes that had been compiled in their absence, detailing two statements that the house-to-house inquiries had produced.

Foxley had been seen walking Toots at around three p.m. on the day of the murder, while another neighbor had reported seeing Foxley arguing with a man on the street outside his basement flat very early in the morning of the day before he died. They described the man as being a thin-faced and surly, wearing a cloth cap, and ‘Eric Newman?’ was written on the board. There were also photographs from the postmortem pinned up, but due to their shocking content they had been covered by sheets of paper.