Toccata stood up and handed me a long-expired season ticket to the Oval.

‘Shit, Wonky,’ she said, handing me the season ticket, ‘you just killed Lucky Ned.’

I looked at the ticket. It said ‘Edward Nodds’, but he was better known amongst his people and law enforcement agencies as the Rt Hon. Edward Warchester Stamford Noddington, 13th Earl of Farnesworth. ‘I didn’t kill anyone.’

‘Somebody did.’

‘His family won’t be happy,’ said Jonesy.

‘We shouldn’t tell anyone that Wonky killed him,’ said Fodder.

‘I didn’t kill him,’ I said in an increasingly exasperated fashion, ‘there was something there – something that could sense me through the snow. Once Ned had gone I was suddenly hearing “So Long, Farewell” running around my head. It’s still there now.’

‘“So Long, Farewell”?’ asked Fodder.

‘From The Sound of Music. The Gronk is very fond of Rodgers and Hammerstein.’

‘Are you suggesting the Gronk took him?’

‘The Gronk’s a myth,’ said Jonesy, ‘you’re still narced.’

We all stood for a while in silence, staring at the folded clothes.

‘The one thing we’re sure of is this,’ said Toccata. ‘The Winter has seen the end of a particularly unpleasant individual. But it means the truce is busted and Lady Farnesworth won’t be happy. With a bit of luck, perhaps they’ll accept he got lost. But Fodder’s right: we don’t tell anyone that Wonky was the last person that saw him alive.’

She looked at us all in turn.

‘And we’re done. I’ll want a full report on my desk by say, oh, I don’t know – suit yourself.’

Toccata trudged off back in the direction of the Sno-Trac; we saw the lights swing around in the semi-dark, then vanish into the greyness.

‘So,’ said Jonesy, ‘now that the Chief’s gone: what really happened?’

‘Yes,’ said Fodder, ‘spill the beans, Wonk.’

‘I don’t know,’ I said in a quiet voice.

‘Is this something to do with Laura’s wager?’ asked Jonesy as we retraced our steps back towards the museum. ‘I’d be overjoyed if Treacle lost the bet, but think very carefully before bearing false witness against a bondsman. Treacle has a seriously overstuffed Debt-bank, and every single one of those Favours could be used to make your life a misery.’

I told them again that I didn’t know what had happened, but that wasn’t strictly true. The child’s laugh I’d heard was uncannily similar to the one I’d heard in my dream: the kid with the beach ball. Parts of my dream were trying to get out.

*   *   *

Fodder and I headed home to the Siddons, which we reached without any further drama. We found Lloyd at the reception desk, darning a sock that was a great deal of darn and very little sock. He nodded a greeting and Fodder looked at his watch.