‘Stay here a moment, I’ll be right back.’ The sergeant left the room closing the door behind her and leaning on it for a moment to compose herself. The intensity in the room had been a lot for her to handle. Returning to reception she asked the officer behind the desk to put a call in to Barrett’s office.

‘What?’ Barrett barked down the line, having been interrupted by the call.

‘Sir, I’m downstairs with Tilly Edgely. She’s in a very bad way. I was wondering if perhaps it would be okay for me to tell her she can return home to Dorset for Christmas. What do you think?’ Elly held her breath.

‘Yes, yes. Fine. She’s not a suspect.’ Barrett banged the phone down ending the conversation.

When Elly returned to tell Tilly the good news, she found the young woman huddling in the corner of the room rubbing her temples with her fingers.

‘I’ve just spoke to DCI Barrett who says you don’t have to stay in Cambridge. Now you can go home to your family. That’ll be nice, won’t it.’ Elly smiled, pleased that she had been able to do something to help Tilly.

‘But I have to stay and help.’ Tilly’s eyes were wide and staring. ‘I need to find his glasses.’

‘Whose glasses?’ Elly asked.

‘Mr Wade’s. He can’t see without them.’

Chapter 15

1.30pm Wednesday 18th December

After collecting the white wreath of lilies from the florist, Jane made her way into the centre of Cambridge on the bus. The snow had temporarily stopped falling and the city looked serene.

Hopping off the bus outside John Lewis, Jane walked slowly holding the large flower display, enjoying the looks of interest she received from the people who were Christmas shopping. In the distance she could hear the faint sound of a choir singing carols in the Market Square.

Before she’d left the house, Jane had contacted her colleagues and requested that they met her outside the shop. She wanted them all to collectively lay the wreath. Marcus, Steven and Tilly had agreed to join her. The others either had plans or she hadn’t been able to get in touch with them.

As Jane turned onto the Market Square the singing grew louder. Gathered outside the front of the Great St Mary’s Church stood a choir, wrapped up in their scarves, hats and gloves, singing Carol of the Bells. The music was carried around the walls of the buildings by the gentle breeze.

Realising she was running late, Jane quickened her pace as she turned onto Trinity Street. She was only five minutes late, but she had always prided herself on being punctual.