‘Completely understandable, Carole. If you were actually there.’

‘Mm.’ A silence. Both sipped their coffees. ‘Tell me something, Adrian. With your knowledge of cars …’

‘Yes?’

‘How easy is it for a gearbox to come loose like that?’

‘Depends very much on the make and model … and who’s doing the job. With most modern cars it couldn’t happen; everything’s locked in position within the chassis. And even with older models … I mean, needless to say, gearboxes have to be fixed pretty securely in place or our roads’d be covered with ones that’d fallen out. But a skilled mechanic could remove one quite easily. Then again, a skilled mechanic would take precautions to see that he got it out safely.’ He grimaced. ‘Which is what makes me think there’s something odd about what happened to Bill Shefford.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Carole, instantly alert.

‘Well, I just wonder if he was all right.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Man in his seventies. Didn’t look very fit to me. I wonder if he might have had a seizure, mini-stroke, something like that, which would explain why he allowed the accident to happen.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘It would explain why it happened. Still, I suppose that kind of detail will come out at the post mortem.’

‘Do you think there’ll be a post mortem?’

‘Bound to be, with an accident like that.’

‘Yes,’ Carole agreed thoughtfully. Then, after a pause, ‘I don’t know if you’ve been in Fethering long enough to notice that it’s a hotbed for gossip …?’

‘I’d kind of expected that. Small towns and villages are the same all over. It was the same in Ilkley. Gossip can get very cruel and hurtful sometimes.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Still, that’s what people’re like, isn’t it?’

‘Well, needless to say, everyone in the village has got a theory about Bill Shefford’s death.’

‘Tell me about it. I was in the Crown and Anchor last night.’

Carole again felt a small, unreasoning pang at the thought of her protégé spreading his wings.

‘Nobody could talk about anything else,’ Adrian continued.

‘Did you contribute?’

He chuckled. ‘No, I know my place. New boy. Not yet wise enough in the ways of Fethering to offer an opinion.’

‘You soon will be.’

‘Oh, I’m sure, yes. There was one bloke in particular who was giving everyone an earful last night.’

‘Did you get his name?’

‘Barney Poulton.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Carole wearily.

‘Seems to be the local historian, knew everything about the village.’

‘Well, he only knows it because he’s done his research.’

‘What do you mean?’