Silence descended on the room like a fog for a moment while Barrett decided what to ask next.

Marcus spoke up, finding the silence too much to bear. ‘He was a family man, a pillar of the community. People who went into the shop knew him and they liked him. He was respected. I can’t imagine anyone who might have a grudge against him or would wish to do him harm. This whole situation is unfathomable.’ He only stopped speaking when Barrett got up and left the room, disappointed not to have made any developments with the case.

‘Thank you very much for taking the time to speak to us,’ Palmer said, feeling embarrassed that Barrett had left without saying a single word.

‘I am happy to help.’ Marcus extended a languid hand and shook hands with the inspector.

‘If we need anything else we will be in touch. In the meantime, might you leave the files you brought with you for us to look at? Some secrets are well hidden in plain sight.’

Chapter 6

8.50am Saturday 14th December

Veronica and her sister had opted to stay at the Travelodge on Newmarket Road the previous night. Veronica, who now was more zombie than woman, couldn’t stand the thought of getting into her marital bed alone, knowing her husband would never lie down beside her again. The women had called Veronica’s neighbour, Peggy, who had a spare key to the house, and had asked her if she’d be kind enough to feed the cat, Cookie. Peggy, who was a lonely soul, had agreed but not without prying as to why the police had come knocking that morning. Thankfully Francesca, a woman who didn’t pull her punches, had dealt with the nosy old woman effortlessly, much to Veronica’s relief.

As they sat on their twin beds in the bland hotel room, Francesca brushed her fine dyed blonde hair thoughtfully. It had been less than twenty-four hours since she’d learnt of the murder of her brother-in-law, but she already felt more at peace with the situation. The same could not be said for her sister.

‘V…’ Francesca put her hairbrush back into her navy-blue handbag and turned to her sister. ‘You really must speak to Andrew. He has a right to know.’

Veronica buried her face in her hands and let out a low moan. ‘I can’t. I just can’t.’

‘I know, dear, but you must.’ She was quietly insistent.

‘How can I tell my only son that his father is dead?’ Veronica looked up, too exhausted to cry any more.

‘You can’t put it off. It’s in the news already. If he hears it second-hand, he’ll never forgive you. You’d never forgive yourself.’

The widow knew her sister was right, but she didn’t know where to begin. Peterborough was only an hour away by train, but the distance had never felt so vast.