‘Ready for another one?’ Jonah asked Hanson, once they’d emerged from the car.

She gave him a wry expression. ‘Totally. Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.’

They approached the house, which bore signs of recent and extensive work. Jonah wondered whether this had once been a seventies bungalow, like a lot of the other homes in the village. Whatever the original building, the finished product was both large and elegant.

He rang the bell, and was rewarded by the sound of thundering feet on stairs. Hanson made an uncomfortable noise, and muttered, ‘They are definitely not expecting the police.’

It was a relief when the door was opened by a sandy-haired young woman in a polo-necked jumper instead of any children. The young woman was in the midst of saying, ‘Probably the postman,’ when her eyes took them in properly, and she hesitated.

‘I’m so sorry for coming unannounced,’ Jonah said, giving her a slight smile, ‘but might we speak to Step? I’m DCI Sheens, with the Hampshire Police.’

He saw her give a shiver, and then nod. She turned to say, ‘Just someone for Daddy. Let’s finish the banner.’

As she let them in, Jonah had a glimpse of a small girl in a blue ballet outfit and a slightly older boy dressed as what looked like a witch before their small forms disappeared back upstairs.

‘Step!’ the woman called towards the back of the house. ‘For you!’

She hovered in the hallway, watching them, before suddenly saying, ‘Karen,’ and holding out a hand. Jonah shook it. Karen looked as if she wanted to ask them something, but then decided against it.

A few moments later, a young dark-haired man appeared. He was something of a surprise. His name alone had made Jonah picture Italian flamboyance. Instead he had what Jonah would have described as slightly bland good looks. He was carrying a box full of brightly coloured plastic balls, his expression patient. The whole impression was of a family man.

Step looked slightly puzzled. ‘Sorry, is it …’

‘They’re the police,’ his wife said in a falsely cheerful voice. She glanced at Jonah, and said, ‘Do you want me …?’

‘That’s absolutely up to you,’ Jonah answered.

‘You’d probably better stay with the kids,’ Step said, and gave her a nod. His accent was totally English. Jonah guessed he was at least a second-generation immigrant of Italian parents.

‘We just need a quick conversation about Alex Plaskitt,’ Hanson said.

‘Alex?’ Step gave her a blank look. ‘Why …’ He suddenly seemed to remember himself. ‘Sorry, why don’t you …?’

He turned as if to lead them into what looked like a sitting room, and then hesitated.

‘Probably quieter in the kitchen,’ he said, and walked instead into a room with warm red flagstones on the floor and light-coloured farmhouse furniture everywhere else.