It had been a great fishing trip on Saturday, with the sea almost flat calm. Bruno had reeled in a ton of mackerel when they hit a shoal on the way out, and later hooked a fine bass, several good-sized mullet and a Dover sole. They’d taken some of the catch home and Bruno had eagerly helped cleaning and filleting the fish, which they’d then barbecued on Sunday. Bruno seemed in his element, and happier than Roy and Cleo had ever seen him. Humphrey had gobbled down his leftovers, too, and it did seem he might be turning a corner. The vet had referred him for myotherapy treatment at the Galen Centre, where he had started on a course.

To Roy and Cleo’s relief, the therapist believed through her assessment that the dog wasn’t becoming aggressive but was being grumpy towards Noah as a consequence of being in pain with his muscles. This also explained his occasional reluctance to go for walks and the continual licking of his paws. There was still a way to go with the treatment, but they were happy with the early signs and news that he could be helped back to health with some more sessions. Roy was relieved that Humphrey’s grumpy moods and uncharacteristic bouts of being aggressive had nothing to do with Bruno. He’d never really considered it that seriously, but it was often Cleo’s first thought when Humphrey acted strangely that it must have something to do with his elder son perhaps tormenting him.

But now, coming up to the 6 p.m. briefing of Operation Canoe, Roy Grace was less happy with the team’s progress in the case. They were still no further along with any clues as to Stuie Starr’s killers, and Norman Potting had warned him earlier in the day, as if he didn’t already know it, that Cassian Pewe was even more on his back than ever.

Suddenly his door burst open and a beaming Potting lumbered in, holding something in his outstretched hand. Before Grace had a chance to rebuke him for not knocking first, the DS said, ‘We have a breakthrough, chief!’

‘Yes? Tell me?’

Triumphantly, the DS plonked a small black memory stick on his desk. ‘Take a look at this!’

Grace frowned. ‘What’s on it?’

‘Take a look!’ he beamed.

Grace inserted the USB, then clicked the image that appeared on his screen to open it and saw the start button for a video. He clicked on that and immediately there was an aerial view of lush, rolling countryside. The video was silent, slowly moving across the landscape, and very steady. Was it from a drone, he wondered?