The Johnson story turned out to be a damp squib. Richard and I spent a chilly hour supposedly hiding outside his house, drinking stewed tea in polystyrene cups from the Copper Kettle, only for the wife to arrive at our window and bang on it with a cross be-ringed hand.

‘This is private property, I’ll thank you.’ Her front tooth was tipped with fuchsia lipstick.

‘It’s not you know, love, it’s a public highway, actually,’ Richard pointed out affably. ‘Have you got any comment on your husband’s recent arrest?’

‘He was not arrested.’ Her soft chin quivered as she drew her camel coat tighter around her. ‘He was merely ‘elping the police with enquiries.’ She’d got very grand, apparently, since her husband won his seat four years ago. A stone squirrel gazed at us from the pillar behind her, concrete nut held forever between his paws.

‘Rightio. And why was that, then?’

She drew herself up to her inconsiderable height. ‘I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask him. But, I might add,’ she fixed us with steely little eyes, ‘he won’t tell you.’

‘Rightio,’ Richard repeated. ‘Well, thanks for your help.’

I leaned across him, offered her my hand. ‘Hi, Mrs Johnson. Rose Miller.’ She refused my hand and glared at me instead. ‘We will find out, you know, Mrs Johnson. It’ll be in the public domain before long, so you’d be doing yourself a big favour by telling us your side of things now.’

‘I have no interest in speaking with you,’ she said stiffly. ‘None whatsoever.’

‘This is your chance to put your side of the story across. We could offer you an exclusive.’

‘No comment,’ she sniffed. The little boy statue peeing into the lily pond looked on languidly as she slammed the garden gate behind her and sailed towards her house.

Richard sighed, and started the car without looking at me.

‘Richard, I—’

‘What?’ He concentrated overhard as he pulled out.

‘I hope – I mean, you didn’t think I was stepping on your toes back there?’

‘Of course not.’ He was obviously lying.

‘I just thought – she needed some coercion, and—’

‘Rose, it’s fine really.’ We slowed to a crawl behind an old red tractor. ‘I understand, honestly.’