‘Perhaps you know Danny’s father?’ Vera thought it was time to change tack. ‘Derek Shaw. He’s a builder and developer.’

‘I know of him.’ Veronica’s response was immediate and hostile. ‘Horrible man. He built that disgusting estate on the edge of Effingham. I have a friend with a property there. She said it halved the value of her home.’

‘Ever thought of developing that land where your grandfather’s house once stood?’ Vera asked. ‘That’s close to Effingham. Greenhough, isn’t that what you said the place was called? The land would be worth a fortune, wouldn’t it, even these days?’ The question had been niggling at the back of her mind since she’d wandered through the cormorant-headed gateposts.

‘We wouldn’t get planning permission,’ Veronica snapped back. ‘And we like it the way it is. Even if it were possible to build, I wouldn’t get Shaw involved.’

‘He’s lost his son.’ Simon spoke softly, but they all looked at him. ‘Whatever you think about him, he’s lost a child.’ Did he really care about the young man’s loss? Or was he simply warning his mother to be more tactful?

‘Of course!’ And now Veronica did seem stricken. ‘I’m so sorry, Inspector, that was unforgivably heartless.’

Ashworth and Vera walked slowly away from the house. Vera insisted on going to the cafe for breakfast before they called at the cottage. The smell of food in the Eliot kitchen had driven her wild. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate without a bacon stottie inside her. The cafe wasn’t open, but the Yorkshire woman was already there, took pity on them and let them in.

‘That was Holly on the phone,’ Ashworth said. He’d tried to explain before, but Vera’s focus had all been about finding food. ‘There’s some interesting information on Veronica. Might explain why she gave Connie Masters such a hard time when she first moved into the village.’

‘Go on.’

‘She lost a child. A toddler. A little boy called Patrick. He drowned in the river. He was playing down on the beach near Connie’s house and he wandered under the bridge and slipped into the river. Veronica was there, but Simon, who was a bit older, was with her too. He’d run off towards the road and she’d chased after him, worried that he might get in the path of a car. When she got back, the little one was face-down in the water. She tried to resuscitate him, but it didn’t work.’