‘This is his place,’ Charlie said, turning the jeep down a narrow, pot-holed lane, the untended hedging on either side scraping the sides of the vehicle.

He came to a halt outside a grey pebble-dashed, farm-style bungalow. The property had been built onto, but in a higgledy-piggledy way; there was no real strategy to its various offshoot rooms and the sheds surrounding it. They were ugly, functional buildings, with dirty windows and doors and a general air of neglect.

‘Does he live here alone?’ Tom asked.

‘Yep. Parents left it to him. They died about ten years ago, I’m told. There was speculation about that, too.’

‘What sort?’ Tom asked.

‘They’d built up debts against the farm. It’s gone now – Vincent sold it off, but mainly just to pay what was owed. He made a few bob, though, and kept the house and a bit of land behind it. Anyhow, his folks had a bad end. They got into a car in the garage, shut all the doors and turned the engine on.’

‘They killed themselves?’

‘Apparently. People thought it was convenient that Vincent wasn’t home that night. Otherwise, he would have noticed, surely? Your parents going off into a locked garage, then the sound of an engine running. I’ll hang on for you out here, if you don’t mind. I can’t imagine you want me doing your interview with you, and this place gives me the creeps.’

It was starting to give Tom the creeps, too.

He and Ray jumped out, straight into the sodden mud that served as the man’s driveway.

They crossed to the front of the house, ducking under the small porch to get out of the rain. Ray rapped hard on the off-white aluminium door. They waited a minute, then knocked again.

Charlie lowered the window.

‘He’s in,’ he called over. ‘I can see his van parked at the side.’

Tom waved an acknowledgement.

‘Let’s head around the back,’ he said to Ray. ‘He won’t be able to ignore us if we’re peering through a window at him.’

‘I hope he doesn’t have dogs,’ Ray said, nervously. He’d been attacked by a dog as a boy and had never recovered his nerve. It was ridiculous, he knew – a grown man over 6 foot tall, and even a yapping terrier could send him into a panic.

They’d just rounded the side of the house when a deafening bang sounded to their right. Stone splintered from the wall of a nearby shed and debris flew in all directions.

‘What the …?’ Ray started. He didn’t get to finish. The inspector, reacting swiftly, pulled him to the ground as another explosion erupted against the side of the house.

Tom covered his head as the fragmenting plaster and stone grazed his hands.