Claire had come to admire and rather to like him. He was a member of one of the small exclusive eccentric churches which flourish still in the west country, and there was a girlfriend she found out, one of the diminishing congregation. She was surprised, too, to discover that Berry had a sharp, unmalicious sense of the ridiculous, and occasionally he had her in fits of giggles, like a schoolgirl.

She sensed he disapproved of her domestic arrangements. She could tell he really thought she should be at home with her son. Yet he never preached. Sometimes his calm patience made her feel inadequate, and then she would lash out at him.

“Do you want to be a dogsbody for the whole of your life, Berry?” she would demand. “ Don’t you want to live a bit, experience something more exciting than tea with Mummy and Daddy?”

But she could never provoke him into a reaction. He would shake his head and smile, then melt unobtrusively away.

“Well,” she said now, “ have you found out anything useful, before we go to Porthkennan?”

“A few things from the computer,” he said, so she was immediately excited. He was a master of understatement.

“Anything on Franks?”

“He’s never been convicted,” Berry said. “He was charged with burglary five years ago when he was still a juvenile but found not guilty.”

“Anything else?”

Berry paused, and if it had been anyone else, she would have thought he was doing it to intensify the drama of his revelation.

“Louis Rosco,” he said.

“Has he got a record?” she asked. She was disappointed. She expected it to be something trivial. He nodded.

“Arson,” he said. “And manslaughter. He got ten years.”

“How long’s he been out?”

“Four years.”

“Any details?”

“Not much. The offence happened in Bristol, and I’ve been trying to get more information from there. It was a small boat yard. Rosco was working there. They assume it was a grievance against his employer. A security guard was killed.”

She was astonished. She would never have thought Rosco capable of such violence. He seemed such an ordinary nondescript sort of man. She was surprised by her own lack of judgement.

She stood up. A nervous energy had kept her going all evening, but now she felt very tired. Perhaps it would be a mistake to do much more tonight, she thought. She should be alert when she was taking the detailed statements. All the same, they would have to go to Porthkennan. By now one of them might be ready to confess. Most murders were cleared up within hours, and the police were given little to do.

Berry was looking at her with a suppressed excitement.

“There is something else,” he said.

“What?” Her head was swimming, and she felt she could take in little else.

“I found this in Franks’ car. It was in the dashboard. No attempt had been made to hide it.”