I wasn’t sure now if his question had been genuine or some kind of test to see how honest I was prepared to be.

Did he know Healy was here?

How?

‘I’m Isaac Mills,’ he said, the change of direction wrongfooting me. Somehow I’d expected to work harder for his name. ‘I’m from a company called Seiger and Sten. You might have heard of us. We’re the legal firm looking after the estate of Randolph Solomon and Emiline Wilson. We gave Ross Perry a set of keys and, very kindly, he comes to check on everything, but once a quarter we like to do the same.’

That, in part, tallied with what Ross himself had told me the day before: that Randolph and Emiline’s solicitors had given him a key. I couldn’t say for certain if the second part was true. Was this guy simply here doing a quarterly check? Or was he here for something else?

‘What’s with the photographs?’ I asked him.

A flicker in his face.

Now he knew I’d been watching him.

‘We feel it’s important to document any changes. Lovely as these places are, they’re remote and they’re vacant, and that makes them very attractive to criminals.’

He was from somewhere in the north-west, well spoken, but that was about as much of a mark as I could place on him.

‘You don’t check the insides of the properties?’

He shrugged. ‘Sometimes, if we feel it’s necessary.’

‘But not today?’

‘Apart from the farmhouse, they all appear to be locked up tight.’

It was almost accusatory, as if I were the one out of place here, not him. I said, ‘So how come you were looking at the other houses?’

This time, he didn’t respond straight away, seeing exactly where this was going: if he was looking after the affairs of Randolph Solomon and Emiline Wilson, why had he been taking photos of the other homes? And what had he been doing for so long at the sides of the houses? Taking a step closer, he said, ‘I’d have to be a pretty callous individual to drive all the way up here and not show any interest in the upkeep of these other houses, don’t you think? We might not be representing their interests in the same way as we do Mr Solomon and Ms Wilson’s, but if there was something wrong – if one of the homes had been broken into, or a roof tile had come loose, or a fence panel had fallen over – it goes without saying that I would let Mr Perry know. That’s the decent thing to do. I mean, I’m sure any of us would do the same, given the circumstances.’

‘I’m sure we would,’ I said.

‘And what is it you’re doing here?’

I tried to weigh up whether telling him mattered or not.