‘Well, it might just be something to consider,’ she suggested, but Barrett didn’t respond and she left the office feeling dejected. She sat at her desk waiting impatiently for Palmer to arrive. She’d been keen to get to work that morning, but since her little chat with Barrett she wished she was at home, snuggled up in bed with her boyfriend.

Palmer arrived at seven-thirty and he too appeared to be in a foul mood.

‘Good morning.’ Elly tried to sound bright.

‘Is it?’ He huffed, plonking himself in his chair and switching on his computer. Great, Elly thought to herself, that’s two grumpy buggers and it’s not yet eight o’clock.

‘I’ve got an address for Erica Clutterbuck.’ She smiled, intent on not allowing him to bring her down. ‘She lives in Great Chesterford.’

‘We’ll head there at eight.’ Palmer’s eyes never left his screen.

‘Very well, sir,’ she said, gritting her teeth, wondering what had plunged Palmer into such a bad mood, and returning to her desk to nurse the watery black coffee she’d got herself from the machine in the hallway.

Twenty minutes later, Elly and Palmer were on Carmel Street in Great Chesterford – a bustling village on the Essex and Cambridgeshire border, twelve miles south of the city.

The sky above them was grey, and Palmer muttered something about hoping it wasn’t going to rain as they approached a semi-detached white cottage. A dog barked from inside when they rang the doorbell, and a few moments later a sleepy-eyed woman appeared in her dressing gown. She did not look very happy to have been woken up.

‘Miss Erica Clutterbuck?’ Elly flashed her badge. ‘I’m DS Hale. Sorry for disturbing you so early, but we have a few questions. I wonder if we could come in?’ At Erica’s heels a Jack Russell continued to yap.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, and tightening the cord on her dressing gown so she didn’t end up flashing the police, Erica nodded and yawned before sliding back the door into the cottage with her foot.

In the kitchen, there were a number of empty wine bottles and a few used glasses on the table, which were clearly from the previous night.

‘It was my birthday.’ Erica waved a hand in the direction of the empties, but made no attempt to tidy them up.

‘Like I said, we’re sorry to disturb you so early, but we are investigating the recent murder of a woman in Cambridge.’

‘Oh.’ The pieces suddenly fell into place for Erica. ‘Toni Jones. That’s what you’re here about?’

‘Yes.’

‘I could lose my job.’ Erica was now wide awake.

‘We have no interest in talking to your employers, we simply want to know about the …’ she paused, ‘appointment Mrs Jones had at the clinic you work at.’