‘Human trafficking?’ muttered one officer.

‘Seems a bit old for that,’ judged the other. ‘Can’t see any signs of violence. Could be natural causes. Heart or something.’

They all knew the procedure: wait for a police doctor, photographer, somebody from CID. Don’t touch anything. Keep the witnesses calm and the bystanders at a distance. But Thea knew better than to reveal just how 74accurately she could predict what happened next. She wanted Gladwin, more than she wanted Drew or Hepzie or any member of her family. This house belonged to Gladwin’s friend, after all. She would be forced to show up at some stage.

But it was another two hours before that happened. Late in the morning, when the small village had become invaded by a convoy of official vehicles, which came and went with no attempt at discretion. Local people came for a look – more inquisitively than Thea could recall from any other Cotswold incident. Perhaps they were more concerned for appearances here in Barnsley, so close to Bibury, where everyone seemed rich and important and flocks of tourists came every day to admire the old houses there. In Blockley, they had taken a murder very calmly, barely breaking a step to find out what was going on. In Snowshill and Stanton and Winchcombe, they’d been almost as uninvolved. But this one was different. Three separate people came right up to the front door, eyeing the police tape with horror, shouting for information.

‘Sorry, sir. There’s nothing to worry about. Everything’s under control. There’ll be a statement in due course.’

Gladwin, when she came, was impatient to the point of meltdown. The body was still in the attic and the detective superintendent went to see. When she came down, she was pale and angry. ‘I haven’t got time for this,’ she snarled at Thea. ‘What on earth happened? Who is this person? What’s wrong with you, that this always seems to happen?’75

‘Nothing’s wrong with me,’ said Thea with a rigid dignity that was the only way she could stave off sudden tears. If Gladwin was going to be furious with her, what hope was there for Drew’s response? ‘I think I was set up, if you want to know the truth.’

‘Of course I want to know the truth. But I’m in the middle of something else, and it won’t wait. There’s a ghastly media circus, because some pest found pangolin scales in a lock-up in Cheltenham, and it’s all leave cancelled, all hands to the pump.’ She slumped against the banisters at the bottom of the stairs. ‘And now you’ve got some illegal migrant that’s gone and died on you.’

‘Who said she’s an illegal migrant?’

‘I don’t know. Isn’t it obvious? No papers. Foreign-looking. Unwashed as well, I suppose. I didn’t look that closely.’

Thea smiled wanly. ‘She’s perfectly clean, as it happens. And I think she could just as easily have been some high-powered businesswoman from Greater London. More likely, actually, the way she came across.’