“Oh, no,” George said. “ It wasn’t Duncan James. Anne James probably phoned Duncan and told him I’d been asking questions, but you’re right. Duncan wouldn’t go in for violence. Presumably he panicked and got in touch with Barnes. I think the stunt with the car was Barnes’ idea. Someone capable of turning Rashwood Hall into such a hideous mess would be capable of anything. Think how it must have seemed to him when I turned up at Rashwood Hall and then went home with his personal assistant. I booked a room at the hall in my own name.”

“Do you think the assault on you is connected in any way with the Franks murder?”

“Not necessarily. James probably hadn’t told Barnes he was being blackmailed by Greg. I’d guess he’d want as little contact with the developer as possible. Barnes might have organised last night’s ‘accident’ just because he didn’t want it widely known that he had bribed an officer of the Nature Conservancy Council to withhold information which would have made Rashwood Park declared a site of scientific interest.”

“I’m here officially to check on Rosco,” Claire said. “ It does seem a remarkable coincidence that he and Franks should have met four years ago.”

“I don’t know if it was coincidence or design,” George said, and told them about his conversation with Vicky Jones. “Greg seems to have taken a perverse and mischievous pleasure in bringing together people who disliked him,” he said. “He could have provoked any one of them to murder.”

By the time the doctor arrived and the sister triumphantly shepherded the women from the ward, they had formed a plan of campaign for the day.

Claire Bingham went south to the city centre. On the road from Heanor to Bristol she had experienced a crisis of confidence which, if Molly Palmer-Jones had not been sitting beside her, she would have blown up out of all proportion.