Lawrence shrugged. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels as though the victim was hardly ever here.’ He drained his tea. ‘Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t quite work out what kind of man lived here.’

Jane followed Lawrence back into the kitchen.

‘Well, Spence and I interviewed all his coworkers today, and to be honest, they all seem to describe him as a boyish charmer. A couple inferred there was a darker side to him. Tonight, we talked to the guy who walked his dogs and he told us that Charles Foxley may possibly have been visiting a dominatrix, but we haven’t verified that yet.’

Lawrence took her mug and rinsed both of them under the tap before drying them and putting them back in the cupboard.

‘Well, that might explain the handcuffs. But I still find it difficult to build up a picture of his character. He has an ex-wife, a daughter, and yet I can’t find any family-orientated notes, books, letters, mementos . . . ’

Jane yawned. ‘Thanks for the tea, Paul, but I’m going to call it quits.’

‘Yeah, I’ll be packing up in a minute too,’ Lawrence said.

Jane headed down the hall, pausing outside the bedroom. ‘Maybe we’ll find out more when we get to the bottom of the situation with this designer, Martinez. There was some sort of ill-feeling about the purchase, apparently. Also, one of the agents said something that I can’t quite make sense of: that Foxley was a man who fed on success but became masochistic towards failure.’

Lawrence shrugged. ‘Well, that’s a bit obtuse.’

Jane laughed. ‘Anyway, goodnight, Paul, I’m off home. Some of us do have one to go to.’

*

Jane made herself a cup of tea and dialed Dabs’s number.

‘Hello, Dabs, it’s Jane. Sorry to call so late.’

‘Hello, love. My God, you’ve got a nasty one. I saw Paul Lawrence over at the lab this morning.’

‘Yes, he mentioned he had seen you. I’m calling because I feel quite bad about not going to the rifle club for another session with Elliott.’

‘I’m sure he understood, Jane. Work takes priority. But let me give you his number if you want to talk to him. Just remember, he’s a very private bloke, so keep it to yourself.’

Jane laughed softly. ‘I’m not likely to tell anyone, Dabs. I really don’t want anyone on the team knowing I’m joining the club.’

‘I understand. I keep my out-of-work hobby to myself.’

‘Well, thanks, Dabs, I really appreciate this.’ She jotted down the number before hanging up. She finished her cup of tea and called Elliott. It rang once and was picked up.

‘Yes?’ The voice was low and quiet.

‘Is this Elliott?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes.’