‘The boss wants us to check out the crime scene again,’ he said. ‘They’ve had reports of an unusual floral arrangement left on the ground.’

He looked nervous, as if there was something he was holding back, but I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t even need to ask about the unusual floral arrangement, especially when his eyes darted to the evidence bag on the table and then back to Constable King.

‘I wonder, Mrs O’Loughlin, do you have anyone who could come and stay with you, or is there somewhere you’d feel comfortable going to stay just until all this blows over? It might make you feel a little more secure,’ Constable King said.

‘You think it’s someone connected to that poor woman’s death, don’t you?’ I asked, my chest feeling tighter.

‘We can’t say that at the moment,’ she said. ‘But it certainly won’t hurt to be more vigilant until we rule that out entirely. And maybe get that security light fixed.’

I didn’t want to feel scared in my home any more. I didn’t want to step away from the quiet and easy routine I had for myself here. It was far from perfect and I’d had to work hard to get used to living alone, but it was my home and for all its faults, I loved it. It held a lot of difficult memories, of course, but also so many happy ones.

Pictures hung on the walls of more innocent, happier times. They reminded me that I hadn’t always got it so wrong. We’d been happy. Our family unit had been untouchable back then. I couldn’t imagine walking away from this place, but nor could I deny I was scared or that I’d feel better if I wasn’t alone. The problem was, I didn’t exactly have a queue of people waiting to come and stay with me. Selling it to them on the basis that a killer might have left me a creepy note, never mind the fact that the house was in growing need of repair, would be a hard task.

Constable King must have seen the look on my face.

‘I’m going to speak to DI Bradley about this as soon as I get back to base and we’ll see what we can do to offer you all the support you need.’

I smiled, grateful for her kindness.

‘How long ago did your daughter pass away?’ she asked.

‘Two years ago,’ I said. ‘Still feels like yesterday in some ways and in others it feels like it’s been decades since I saw her.’

‘I’m very sorry. It must be terribly hard. It’s true what they say that no parent should have to bury a child. May I ask, had she been ill?’