Now, as Prince stood under the Judgement Porch listening to Henry playing with his nanny, he became aware of a silent presence behind him, like a victim of the Black Death risen from the grave where they had lain for six hundred years. He knew who it was without needing to turn round.

‘Good morning, Mr Gilbey. I’m surprised to see you here.’

Tom Gilbey was elegantly dressed in a formal black suit, a fawn-coloured cashmere coat folded over one arm and a white carnation in his buttonhole.

‘You were generous enough to invite me, Richard.’

‘I assumed you’d be too busy, sir.’

Gilbey patted Prince on the shoulder and wished him many congratulations, then shook his hand with a tight grip. ‘It’s my way of thanking you both.’

The wedding party was preparing to move into the cathedral, and Prince turned to join them.

‘I wouldn’t mind a few words with you after the ceremony, Richard,’ and with that Gilbey moved away.

Prince stopped: he had little doubt what that meant. It would account for why Tom Gilbey had come all the way up to Lincoln for the wedding of two of his agents. It no doubt also explained why he had been so keen for them to marry in the first place.

There weren’t many of them, easily fitting into the Soldiers’ Chapel in the north transept, where the dean himself performed the ceremony. Prince and Hanne were joined by Henry, who acted as pageboy, his nanny, Prince’s elderly father and a few relatives. In addition, there were various colleagues from the police force, a couple who’d been very friendly with Prince and his late wife Jane, and two sets of neighbours. And then of course Tom Gilbey, at the rear of the chapel, as if there to ensure everything was carried out to his satisfaction.

For a few minutes during the ceremony, Prince was calm and at peace with himself. He was marrying a woman with whom he was deeply in love and who until a few months ago he had feared was dead.

Afterwards, they moved into the Chapter House for a buffet lunch. Prince found Gilbey studying a painting of a seventeenth-century bishop whose beady eyes appeared to be surveying the room.

‘You said you wanted a few words with me after the ceremony, sir?’

‘I didn’t mean straight after, Prince. Don’t want to spoil your big day.’

‘You already have.’

‘Come on, now…’

‘I know the way you work, sir. You’ve come here to sign me up for another job.’

Tom Gilbey said nothing as he lit a cigarette and watched his protégé through the smoke.

‘Are you taking a honeymoon?’

‘No, sir. Henry starts school next week.’

‘Come down and see me later in the week, then. Oh, and Prince…’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Do bring Hanne with you.’

They left the cathedral an hour later. Gilbey had long gone, and Prince and Hanne walked through the Angel Choir arm in arm, Henry holding Hanne’s hand.