She’d ventured north only twice before: once to Leeds to visit the university when she was choosing her course, and on another occasion to Liverpool on a kind of music pilgrimage when she was a student. Two things stood out from both trips: the cold and the rain. She remembered the people as charming but curious about her accent, and she found it ludicrous that they assumed she was posh. She’d gone to a local co-ed in north Hertfordshire, then on to Bristol University. She was what she considered normal.

She’d booked a B&B online in Portinscale, near Keswick. The town looked quaint on the internet photos. All the houses were built of slate, and stunning views of the mountains could be had everywhere. It felt rather indulgent to be acting so extravagantly, but then she realised that if George was advancing such a generous sum so early on, the topic was serious: enough to die for. She might never see the rest of the agreed fee, but for now her interest was piqued. She also realised that the transfer, given how long it took for such transactions to process, was likely to be the last George ever made. Police profiling of murder victims was thorough and detailed, but also slow, so she knew they’d examine George’s bank accounts at some point, but she guessed she had a week or so to stay one step ahead. It wasn’t that she was worried about acquiring the money illegally or unfairly – she had everything recorded, including his offer of fifty thousand pounds on publication – it was more that she wanted to find out more about George before they did. And before whoever killed him found out who he’d been talking to.

She followed the navigation instructions and pulled off the motorway at Junction 40. As she drove closer to the mountains, she gawped more and concentrated less. She’d had no idea that the Lake District was quite so extraordinary. The fells were literally just there, behind the houses and hotels. At the B&B, she parked in a space on the driveway and got out. She could see a lake, but she didn’t know which one it was. It was framed with fells and forest either side and she was instantly drawn to it. Her task for the evening was to orientate herself and get to know the area where George had stayed and died, but she decided to take a walk to the lake as soon as she’d checked in.

The woman at the reception desk was friendly and interested in her southern accent.

‘First time?’