The two men ran their practised hands gently over the painting and the adjoining walls, talking quietly. Once, they nodded in agreement; this caused both Edward and Isabel to look anxious. Then Adam, who had been bending to examine the flooring, got up, brushed down his hose, then said, ‘May we look at the room next door?’ Coleswyn and I exchanged a glance and nodded. The two men went out. We heard the faint murmur of their voices from the next room. In the parlour there was absolute silence, Isabel and Edward still turned away from each other. Edward was looking at the wall painting now, sadness in his eyes.

A few minutes later Wulfsee and Adam returned. ‘We will prepare written reports, but I think Master Adam and I are in agreement,’ Wulfsee said, a triumphant glitter in his eye. ‘This wall painting could not come down without irreparable damage to it. One can see from the room next door that the plaster in the wall has shrunk, leaving a distinct crack in the middle of the wall. It is barely visible from this side, though you can see it if you look closely. Were an attempt to be made to remove the wooden joists, the plaster would simply collapse. You agree, Master Adam?’

Adam looked at me, hesitated, then spread his hands apologetically. ‘I do not see how anyone with knowledge of building work could think otherwise.’ I heard a sharp indrawn breath from Isabel, and a nasty smirk appeared on Edward’s face.

‘See, we will show you,’ Wulfsee said.

We all went through to the next room, where a fine crack was clearly visible on the wall. Going back to the parlour, looking very closely, we could see a faint line on this side too, under the paint. Edward smiled. ‘There,’ he said with satisfaction, ‘the matter is settled.’

I looked again at the wall. Wulfsee, so far as I could tell, was right; an expert determined to make a fight of it might have blustered and prevaricated, but Adam was not like that. Coleswyn turned to me and said, ‘It does seem so, Serjeant Shardlake. The wall painting was always intended to adorn the structure of the house, and can only exist as such. It must therefore be defined as a fixture.’

‘I would like to peruse the experts’ reports when they are prepared,’ I said, to buy time. But I knew this was decisive. By insisting on an expert of her choice, Isabel had doomed her own case. Everyone, even Edward, looked at her. She stood like stone, gazing at the wall painting – so old and beautiful and fragile, that view across the years of her parents, her brother and herself. She had gone deathly pale with the news, but as I watched the colour rose until her normally papery face became scarlet. She pointed at poor Adam. ‘What church do you attend?’ she snapped.