‘I realised that,’ Jane said as she sat down on her petite navy sofa and folded her hands together in her lap. ‘How may I assist you?’ Despite the fact that Jane was unhealthily skinny, she was tall and carried herself well.

‘We’d like you to tell us when you last saw Dennis Wade alive.’ Palmer sat on an armchair opposite that matched the sofa.

‘I was at work on Thursday. I did my normal shift and left at about half past seven, Dennis was in the building when I left. We said our goodbyes and that was that.’

‘How long have you worked at Ashton’s Book Shop?’ Barrett asked. He had remained standing.

‘Nearly ten years,’ Jane said with surprisingly little emotion.

‘Would you say that you and Dennis were friends?’ Palmer inquired.

‘We got on perfectly well. He was a nice man, with a good temperament. I wouldn’t say we were friends. We were colleagues. Our relationship was strictly business.’ Jane tucked a strand of her wild hair beneath her ear.

‘Were you aware of any problems Dennis was having at work or in his private life?’ Barrett was growing sick and tired of asking the question.

‘None. Can I offer either of you gentlemen a cup of tea?’ she asked checking her delicate gold wristwatch. Palmer guessed she was a creature of habit.

‘Not for me.’ Barrett wanted answers not tea. ‘You do not seem particularly upset or surprised by the murder, if you don’t mind me saying so, Ms Campbell.’

‘I do not think it is appropriate to be emotional in front of strangers.’ Jane played with a signet ring on her small finger. ‘I was brought up better than that.’

‘So there is nothing you can tell us that you think is of interest?’ Palmer decided to try a softer approach.

‘I don’t want to get anyone into trouble,’ she admitted biting her lip, ‘but I did happen to overhear an argument.’

Barrett raised his eyebrows.

‘It took place at some point in November. His son, Andrew, had called the bookshop wanting to speak to his father. When I handed Dennis the phone, he took it into his office and closed the door. I was rearranging one of the shelves nearby and heard his shouting a few minutes later. I wasn’t eavesdropping, of course; it was hard not to hear what was being said. Dennis was clearly irate. I’ve never known him to lose his temper. It became apparent that Andrew was in trouble and asking for money. Dennis was refusing. Realising that this was a private matter I moved away from his office to the other side of the shop and got on with my business. I don’t know how the call ended.’

‘And this was in November, you say?’ Palmer nodded, encouraging her.

‘Yes, that’s correct.’