‘What? Which bed? Where are you? Where’s Dad?’

‘Your bed. He’s here as well. He’s feeling a bit—’

The phone suddenly went silent for a few seconds, and then Drew’s voice replaced Stephanie’s. ‘Hey, Thea! You’re phoning early. We were just having a little Sunday zizz.’

‘Wasting the sunshine? Surely not? I thought you’d be going out somewhere. That’s why I called the mobile.’

‘We decided to just stay at home, after all. We’re reading, actually.’

‘Even you?’

‘Why is that so surprising?’

His voice sounded strained, as if every word was an effort. At the same time there was an underlying urgency, a need to keep talking at all costs. ‘You sound funny,’ she said. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No, no. Absolutely nothing. What about you? I spoke to Gladwin yesterday – did I tell you? She’s ridiculously busy.’

‘Yes, you told me. I saw her today, actually. Busy isn’t really the word. She’s like a whirling dervish.’

‘So why did you see her? Where was she?’

Thea took a deep breath. ‘Listen, Drew. It’s all gone a bit crazy here. Can I tell you a long story without you interrupting?’

‘Try me.’

She imagined him lying back on the bed, having his lazy Sunday zizz like someone from an earlier age. Even 88the word zizz came from many decades ago. Thea’s grandmother had used it. ‘Here goes, then,’ she said, and launched into an account of the past twenty-four hours.

At the conclusion, Drew’s tone was reproachful. ‘You never told me a word of this last night. I didn’t suspect a thing. You’re scarily good at keeping secrets, when you want to.’

‘I know. It’s a terrible fault. Not like you. You’re a hopeless liar.’

‘So what’s going to happen next? Are you staying there as planned, or what?’

‘I’ve no idea. It depends, I suppose, on what the post-mortem shows. If Grace was murdered, that has all sorts of implications. The police will be back with a thousand questions. I’ll have to go over every tiny detail about yesterday. But it won’t be Gladwin. I don’t expect I’ll see Caz Barkley, either. Pity – I like Caz.’

‘She scares me,’ said Drew.

Caz Barkley was a new member of the local CID team, a young woman thoroughly dedicated to her job, with sharp wits and extensive personal experience of the murkier depths of British society. Thea and Drew had met her once, a few months earlier, and seen her in action.

‘Anyway – everything’s up in the air at the moment. I’ll be sure to lock myself in tonight. Tomorrow the builders will show up – even if the police decide to send them away again.’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘Good question. They probably won’t. I’ll be glad of the company. You wouldn’t believe how much I miss 89Hepzibah. It’s pathetic, but I feel as if I’ve got a limb missing, here without her. I keep looking for her. Going for a walk without a dog seems utterly futile.’