“He’s a single man,” Rolfe said. “Never seemed to need the company of women, as far as I can see. Only money. He needs money as you and I need to breathe. He started off with a couple of betting shops here in Bedminster. I don’t know how he got the finance for those. It’s a long time ago. The big break came for him with his deal with Sinclair. When the boat yard went up in flames, he had the insurance and the land. Everyone at that time knew of the plans to develop the docks. He held on to the land, bought out Sinclair, and when the development corporation was formed with their plans for all those expensive houses, he was in a prime position. It’s impossible to guess how much he made in that deal. Enough to buy more land in the middle of town and put up a load of houses and a hotel. Now he seems to have shares in every successful business in the city. There’s that country club out at Rashwood in Somerset, and I heard last week that he’s offered for a chain of local travel agents.”

“Where does he live?” she asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything he calls home,” Rolfe said. “Not really. There’s a suite in the hotel in the city, and he spends a lot of time at the place at Rashwood. He has land in Scotland where he and his cronies go shooting grouse in the autumn, and a cottage in Cornwall for the sailing.”

“Where in Cornwall?” she asked, and he looked at her sharply, excited, realizing the implication of the question.

“Near Heanor,” he said. “Fremington Creek. Like I said, he goes there for the sailing.”

“Rosco sails out of Heanor,” she said. “It could be coincidence.”

“Pigs might fly,” he said.

“Barnes wouldn’t have killed an innocent boy just to put Rosco in prison again,” she said. “ There’d be no need. Rosco’s been out for four years, and he’s caused Barnes no trouble. He got the Jessie Ellen out of the deal. As you said, that would be enough for him. Besides, how could Barnes have done it? He wasn’t there.”

“You could find out if Barnes was involved,” Rolfe said, and he spoke so quickly that she realised he had been hatching such a plot for years, brooding about it. The details would be revised to meet this situation, but the general thrust of this means of revenge would be well known to him. To carry it out was the dream which had replaced the dream of sailing round the world. It had kept him going, kept him active and prepared.

“How?” she asked despite herself. She knew she should not encourage him.