Ben Lightman arrived after that, only just returned from annual leave and looking as perfectly unruffled and movie-star handsome as ever. He clearly wasn’t dressed warmly enough to hang around outside but showed no signs of concern. It was as if the cold was something that affected other people.

He listened in stillness to the sparse information they had so far.

‘I’d like witness statements from the surrounding houses,’ Jonah finished up. ‘You can have my coat and gloves. Juliette’s with the homeowner so I’ll go and check in with her.’

Lightman nodded, taking the offered coat and beginning to put it on. ‘And presumably Domnall can come with me once he’s here?’

‘He can,’ Jonah agreed. ‘Give him a few.’

Of the four of them Domnall O’Malley actually lived the closest to the crime scene. But O’Malley had never been a man to hurry unless he had no other choice, and despite a previous career in the military he managed his life in a haphazard, seat-of-his-pants fashion. Jonah was well used to it and was happy to let him do things his way.

Jonah headed inside and found Hanson in a large, beautifully decorated sitting room just off the hall. She’d managed to dress herself formally in a navy suit and cream shirt, and looked respectable, if slightly thrown together.

The woman who sat near her looked unprepared for any of this. She was somewhere in her early thirties, and was swathed in a thick dressing gown over pyjamas. Her feet were bare, and she had the remains of make-up around her eyes. Her very dark hair looked damp, and had been scraped back into an uneven ponytail. She shivered continuously, most likely because there was a dead man in her front garden, but just possibly also because of the blast of arctic air that was making its way through the two open doors.

‘Ah,’ Hanson said, giving him a smile. ‘This is my DCI. This is Louise Reakes, sir. She found the body and called us in.’

Hanson’s hint of a Brummie accent had stepped up this morning, and Jonah guessed it was deliberate. An unthreatening regional burr was reassuring.

‘Let’s get this door closed,’ Jonah said, pushing the sitting-room door shut. ‘We can at least stop the cold getting in here.’ And then, as he pulled up an upright chair opposite the woman on the sofa, he added, ‘I’m so sorry for all of this.’

‘It’s all right,’ Louise said, hoarsely. ‘Can’t be helped. It’s not like you put him there …’ Her mouth twisted slightly in wry humour. For a moment she looked like she might be about to apologise, and then she dropped her gaze to her hands.

‘Did you know the victim?’ Jonah asked, gently.

Louise shook her head. ‘No. I’ve never seen him before in my life. I’m sorry.’