They got into the car, and Latimer started the engine. ‘Come on, then. Tell Aunty Meg.’

‘OK, if you must know, I think I saw a ghost.’

She laughed out loud.

‘And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.’

‘Henry, I never had you down as a—’

‘She was in my mind, not in the house.’

‘She?’

He sighed. ‘I’m saying no more.’

‘Ah. The woman in the dress. The blue and yellow dress. Adeline.’

‘She was standing at the top-floor window, looking down at me.’

‘Really? Oh, shit … What’s that stink?’

‘Eh?’

‘What’s in the bag?’

He had placed a plastic shopping bag on the back seat, its handles tied together in a knot. But the smell still escaped.

‘Oh, it’s evidence. I think.’

‘Well, it’s horrible.’

‘Sorry. Should have put it in the boot.’

‘What is it?’

‘Something I found in the back garden. A plant. A fungus. Is a fungus a plant?’

‘Haven’t a clue.’

‘Anyway, I think that’s why I saw the ghost.’

‘Because of a plant? You mean, like magic mushrooms?’

‘Maybe. Fairfax found the same thing growing near to Nicholas Graves’s body. I don’t know … I want to get it analysed.’

‘It smells like – like someone poured aftershave on a dog turd.’

‘Jesus.’

‘What? It’s true. Thank the fuck it’s not my car.’

‘Your car stinks of Silk Cut and Cornish pasties. And hairspray.’

‘The holy trinity. Which reminds me, light us one, will yer? In my bag.’

Hobbes found her cigarettes, lit one and handed it to her.

‘Cheers. This’ll hide the smell of your drugs. I hope we don’t get pulled over, or we’re done for.’

Hobbes was glad that Latimer was back in her usual good mood. Maybe the problem of DC Fairfax would sort itself out: let the guy run his course. And if he leaves the force, well, Meg will come round, eventually.

He asked, ‘So how was your chat with Miss Travis? Anything untoward?’

‘Untoward?’

‘I’m guessing that’s why you wanted me out of there.’

‘Oh, right, yeah. It’s clean. The old geezer never touched her, nothing inappropriate. I think he was just a lonely old man happy to have the company of a young woman for an hour or two. Must have perked him up no end.’

They were moving along Queens Road, past the cemetery where Leonard Graves had been buried. Hobbes was reminded once more of how Joan Travis had appeared on that day, as a magical figure among the trees. ‘It was strange, though, their relationship.’

‘Sure. Maybe. But she got something from it as well, in terms of knowledge, and I’m guessing self-confidence. You’ve met her mum, hardly a free spirit.’

‘Hmm. And what do you think of her story? About Leonard calling her Adeline.’

‘My granny used to do the same thing, get her two daughters all mixed up. It’s common enough, once you reach a certain age.’

‘So you’re saying?’

‘I think Adeline is Leonard’s daughter. Mary Estelle Graves had a fourth child. But she died, at some point, probably quite young. And the family has kept her alive, ever since, in their minds. In their stories.’