‘Fire away. I want this bastard caught.’

‘Possibly bastards plural, sir.’

‘What?’

‘Coroner is convinced there were two attackers. I’ll confirm after the autopsy.’

Ormond looked a little confused and Kelly waited for him to gather his thoughts again. She went straight on to the reason she’d come.

‘I’d like to find out how well you know the Watson family, sir. It could help our inquiry. Thomas Watson is, understandably, with his children at the moment and we haven’t had a chance yet to interview him fully.’

‘I understand. I met Tom when he moved to the area three years ago. Decent chap, friendly, genuine, and a golfer. That’s where we met. I met Ella and the children when we invited them to ours for lunch one weekend. Lovely family, not a jot of badness between them. Kids doing well at school – they go to St Catherine’s, I believe – and thoroughly hard-working, respectable people.’

That word again.

‘It’s appalling what’s happened.’

‘I know, sir. I’m sorry about your personal involvement. I presume, with respect, you’ll be passing on this one? I’ll keep it in-house and report to DCI Cane as always.’

‘Not at all, I want to be informed every step of the way. You report direct to me, do you understand?’

Kelly’s stomach felt heavy. ‘Yes, sir.’ Her hands were tied. She wasn’t about to disagree with a superintendent and go behind his back. She’d have to put up with him breathing down her neck from now on until she cracked the case. However, the unorthodox nature of what he’d just asked her to do unsettled her. He was breaking protocol. No one was supposed to go unilateral on a case this huge, and there was a massive conflict of interest here. It was impossible for Ormond to be impartial.

‘So, we’re going with the gang lead, then? Residents of the Beacon Estate – high on drugs probably – attack an innocent woman who appears wealthy and get away with… what? A phone? A ten-pound note?’

Again, Kelly was perplexed by his frankly unprofessional approach to this case; he’d been off the street for too long.

‘Sir, there are many theories and I doubt a gang hit is the one. It wasn’t a robbery. Nothing was taken from Ella’s body, and she was wearing expensive jewellery and had a top-of-the-range iPhone.’

Ormond looked shocked – no, irritated. He’d had it all sorted in his head, thought Kelly, which was exactly why she didn’t want him on this case: he was making assumptions before the evidence was even in; it was the worst kind of police work. She had a horrible feeling that this could be the trickiest case she’d faced so far since moving back to Cumbria from the Met.