‘Well, there’s the five thousand pounds, sir. It’s a lot of money to anyone in Mrs Dalby Whittier’s position. The only thing is—’

‘Yes, what?’ But Jonathan had an inkling of what was coming.

‘We can’t trace her, sir. After she left the bungalow she was supposed to go to her relations in London. She never turned up. Not that they seem to have troubled themselves about that. Just said they thought she’d changed her mind and have been waiting for a letter to that effect. Seems it was years since they’d seen her, and we gathered they wouldn’t lose sleep if they never saw her again. Hinted as how she had been a little bit of a bad ’un. Blotted the family copy book, we were given to understand, and had been more or less kicked out when she eventually got married. What do you think about that, sir?’

‘You’d better ask my aunt,’ said Jonathan.

‘So that, if she did marry Mr Bill Fullalove, it would have been her second marriage?’ Mrs Bradley enquired.

‘That’s the size of it, ma’am.’

‘Did she have any children by her first husband?’

‘Yes, one child. A boy. The choirmaster here – Mr Emming. That doesn’t surprise you, ma’am?’

‘Not in the least. I had guessed it. I wonder whether she left a will?’

‘If she’s really disappeared we’ll have to trace her, particular as there’s going to be an enquiry into these here anonymous letters.’

‘And if there is going to be another enquiry into Bill Fullalove’s death,’ said Jonathan. ‘By the way, what was the post-mark on this letter she sent you?’

‘London, W.1, sir. And her relations live in Lewisham.’

‘Still, it means she did go to London.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Was her letter written by hand?’ Mrs Bradley enquired.

‘No. In a sort of careful print done in pencil, ma’am, and just signed D. D. Whittier.’

‘So it may not have come from her, you mean?’

‘Well, I must say we took it that it did, ma’am. No reason to doubt it, I should say.’

‘So there it is,’ said the Chief Constable. ‘We can find Mrs Whittier, of course, but, short of exhuming the body, there’s nothing more we can do, and in spite of what the inspector and his police surgeon say, I’m dead against it.’

‘You can track down this anonymous letter-writer, anyway, can’t you?’ demanded Jonathan.

‘It isn’t easy, you know.’