The town of Penrith was non-descript, he thought, and it was bloody cold despite the season. He arrived and found the relevant ward. He’d checked ahead that Graeme Millar was keeping a vigil on his new squeeze and had bedded down in the visitors’ room. He spoke to the sister in charge briefly and was told that Tilly was stable, with minor injuries: mainly shock and bruising. He was taken to the guest area and found a man dozing on an armchair, covered in a blanket. He stirred and sat up.

Matt held out his hand. ‘DCI Carter. I’m heading the investigation into Tilly’s assault.’

Graeme took his hand. They sized each other up.

‘I should never have left her,’ he said.

‘We all say that.’

‘Do you know what happened to the policeman who was injured? I’ve asked here but no one will tell me.’

‘He died, I’m afraid.’

‘Jesus. Poor bloke.’

‘And all for someone who wasn’t really involved,’ Matt added.

Graeme screwed his brow. ‘Who? Tilly?’

‘Yes. I was led to believe she didn’t know who was behind George’s murder, so whoever was sent after her was there on a very slim chance. Do you know what was on the laptop that was taken?’

‘No. Only that it was her work.’

‘Good job up at the big house, by the way. We took Montague-Roland in for questioning. Why do you think he allowed you access to the house? Wasn’t it risky?’

‘I don’t know. He wouldn’t be aware how well I know Kelly and Johnny. He also needed a local, and I know the area.’

‘Who’s Johnny?’

‘Kelly’s other half.’ Graeme watched the DCI when he said this, and wished for some reason that he hadn’t.

‘Has Johnny some relevance to the investigation?’ Matt asked.

‘No. I teach them both to sail. But Sebastian wouldn’t know that.’

‘The men you saw hanging around the house: could you ID them from some photos for me?’

‘Sure.’

Matt reached into his case and took out photographs of the suspects being held in London. They were in no particular order. Graeme positively ID’d Denny Tapps and Ken Chubb, then stopped on the photograph of Leo Brown.

‘You know him?’

‘Yeah, he was one of my young soldiers in the army. He’s involved, is he? He was always up to no good.’

‘I think you know the answer to that, Mr Millar. What about this one?’ Matt showed him a photograph of Colonel Dansford.

‘Dansford? Is he still serving? Jesus, he looks as though he’s put on a few stone.’

‘He committed suicide this afternoon.’

Graeme stared at him wordlessly.