‘See if you can track down Professor Craggs,’ Vera said. ‘We need to talk to him too.’

She switched off the phone and started up Harbour Street. Joe Ashworth followed and caught up with her, so they were walking side by side. ‘You can’t really think that Enderby and Craggs planned the murder?’ He thought she was mad.

‘They’ve lied to me,’ she said. ‘Both of them.’

‘People lie to the police for all sorts of reasons.’

‘But they shouldn’t.’ She stopped abruptly to catch her breath. ‘They shouldn’t lie to me.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

Kate was drinking coffee in the kitchen with Stuart when there was a knock at the door, so loud that she jumped and felt an irrational surge of fear. They’d had a lazy morning. George Enderby had come to the dining room for breakfast as usual and then had disappeared. The kids were out. The house was still and quiet; it rarely was, and she thought that in the future their life could be like this, peaceful and easy. Then there was the knock at the door and Stuart looked up from the newspaper on his lap, frowning. ‘Shall I go?’

But he seemed so settled there, and a little elderly in the harsh light of a working kitchen, so she got to her feet and kissed his forehead as she went past him and felt the skin very dry on her lips.

She looked through the hall window before opening the door and saw the fat detective and her sidekick standing outside.

‘Sorry to disturb you, pet. Do you mind if we come in?’ And by the time Vera Stanhope had finished the words she was inside the house, the younger man trailing after her. Kate wondered how that must make him feel, always in the fat woman’s shadow.

Vera stood in the hall, rubbing her hands against the cold, as if they’d been waiting outside for hours and not just a few minutes.

‘I was wondering if we could get breakfast,’ she said. ‘I mean, we’d buy it of course. We’d have to. These days even a freebie fry-up might be taken the wrong way. Bribery and corruption.’

And she flashed a bright smile, so Kate wondered if this was the only reason for the visit – if they’d disturbed her perfect morning just to make them bacon and eggs. Or if this was some kind of weird joke. She remembered the rush of adrenaline when she’d heard the banging on the door and felt angry. The cheek of the woman! It was hard to believe this was happening – the strange woman invading her house and demanding breakfast. But then it was hard to believe that two women had been killed in the town.

Vera was still talking. ‘You’re not on your own, are you? I thought you still had guests staying.’

‘Only George,’ Kate said. ‘George Enderby.’