Despite Hunter’s scepticism he was convinced that Henshaw’s development had in some way triggered the series of events that had resulted in Alice Parry’s death. Henshaw’s version of the confrontation with Alice Parry was false. Something had happened to distress her, and almost immediately after she had died. The man’s lying must be significant.

The council offices were in a shabby building that always reminded Ramsay of a large working-men’s club. The planning officer was a small, solid man with a thin grey moustache. He had Henshaw’s plans laid out on his desk.

“I don’t understand the planning procedure,” Ramsay said. “ It might be relevant in this case. Perhaps you could explain.”

“Mr. Henshaw made his original application for Brinkbonnie late last summer,” the officer said. He had a brisk, clipped voice and spoke with the formality of a man used to local politics. “Previously the land had been of marginal agricultural use—occasionally leased to a local farmer for grazing cattle. After being purchased by Mr. Henshaw, I believe that arrangement stopped. The council felt that the plans were inappropriate for a village of Brinkbonnie’s size and refused permission to build.”

“Was there a lot of publicity at that time?”

“Not a great deal. We put a notice in the local paper and received several objections, but no-one seriously believed the development would be approved.”

“Would a smaller scheme have been more favourably received?”

“I can’t speak for the council, of course, but yes, I would have thought so.”

“What happened then?”

“The developer, Mr. Henshaw, appealed to the Department of the Environment’s inspector. The case was heard at the beginning of February.”

“And the result of the appeal came through last week?”

“Yes. I received the inspector’s report on Monday.”

“And he found in Mr. Henshaw’s favour?”

The planning officer sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. The inspector does seem to be taking a less restrictive view of planning rules now. And there is a move to release less valuable agricultural land for building.”

“So what was the point of the Brinkbonnie residents holding their protest meeting on Saturday afternoon? Surely the planning procedure had been exhausted.”

“No,” the planning officer said sadly. “ Not quite. There really is very little likelihood that the inspector’s decision could be overturned at this point, but there is a faint possibility. I don’t think the council would want to take the action any further because of the cost, but if there was sufficient public pressure, I suppose they might feel they had to make the gesture. I’d advise them against it, but they don’t always take my advice.”

“And what action could the council take?”

“They could appeal to the high court.”

“And could Henshaw proceed with the building while the appeal was being heard?”

“Oh, no!” The officer seemed almost offended at the notion. “ It would mean another delay.”