‘That’s why you’re here,’ she whispered. ‘Jan. Or was it Gregory?’

There was no use denying it; that would only fuel Mrs Lehner’s already blazing fire of curiosity. ‘I know I can trust you with my secret, Mrs Lehner.’

She had the gall to nod seriously. ‘Anna’s a good woman. Don’t let that hardness of hers fool you. She wept for weeks when her boy was gone.’

‘And the constable? How did Mrs Harsson feel about him?’

She glanced to the door. We were still alone in the common room. ‘Things were said. But that was just a mother’s grief.’

‘Gregory didn’t die.’

‘Sent so far away? It’s as good as,’ she said. I had to concede the truth of that.

*

I had my first leads. To call them suspects would be far too premature, but it was satisfying to finally be peering a little deeper into the depths of Drekenford and its community. All I had heard about the town before I arrived, from eminent Esteberg citizens such as the chief inspector and Brother Ignatius, was dismissive at best, disparaging at worst. I was starting to see first-hand that there was more to the town than northern prejudices might allow, both for good and for ill.

I returned to the constable’s office, wanting one last look at the site of Constable Webber’s demise. In part I was concerned that I had missed something, perhaps distracted by the strange and gruesome nature of the crime. And, following my conversation with Mrs Lehner, I was also interested in finding any materials pertaining to either the framer Stefan or Mrs Harsson herself.

I was pleased to find the cordon remained outside the constable’s office, pleased too to see the crowd was gone and that one of the mayor’s men was standing guard. His breath fogged the air and he was well-layered against the chill. He clearly recognised me and granted me entrance without so much as a hello. In fact, he made every effort not to look me in the eye. As he closed the door behind me, I wondered if the mayor had failed to keep tales of my examination of Constable Webber to himself.

There was a single lit candle by the door. I took it but did not light more. I wanted to see the room in small, four-foot square sections; that way I could focus on one thing at a time without distraction.

The hallway, where I had sat waiting when I first met the constable, was still empty except for its chairs. These were old and scuffed and more than one was damaged in some way. Leaning closer, I noticed they were the same chairs as those of the inn’s common room.

I pressed on, finding the desk in the same disordered state as the night before. However, the constable’s seat had been tucked back under. I thrust my candle forward to find an empty floor, and the constable’s body gone. Rightly so, of course, but I should have been notified and advised where it was being taken to; I may yet have needed to examine the body again. I hoped the mayor and his men had not taken any further liberties without my consent.