Ullswater was what was technically known as a ribbon lake, so called because of its finger-like formation left behind after being sloughed by a huge glacier, or in this case, three, between hard rock formations. It was actually a Z shape and easily the most glorious and peaceful lake in the whole park, though some might disagree. It was the perfect drive for two lovers, and not perhaps two coppers tasked with finding out where the late Bartholomew Kennedy-Craig had spent his final night, presumably hosting a member of Her Majesty’s government. Either that or he’d got there very early to take the flight back to London. A check with the Glenridding hotel, where the climate conference attendees were staying, had established that Lord Reilly was checked in there, but did not stay on Sunday night, or any other night.

Dan and Emma had accepted the brief gladly, and had already discovered that Kennedy-Craig regularly rented the sprawling estate of Laurie Fell, hidden behind the sloping hills, and had done so for the whole three weeks running up to, and including, the climate conference. Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t been invited to that, however Lord Reilly had attended. It was their job to find out why the two had met and how the minister had ended up hitching a ride in a helicopter with the CEO of Tactika Enterprises. Now Kelly had informed them of the latest development on the mountain, it was vitally important that the last movements of the pair were looked into.

Emma stopped for coffees in Pooley Bridge, midway between Eden House in Penrith and Laurie Fell, halfway along the A592, which bordered Ullswater’s northern shore. Real estate here was premium, and holiday lets were clustered mainly around the hiking hubs of Glenridding to the west, Pooley Bridge to the east, and a few campsites along the way. The steamers chugged up and down all year round, though less so in winter, and compared to somewhere like Windermere, it was a quiet and serene lake attracting those wanting to get away from it all. It boasted a smattering of well-hidden five star rentals, and a few of them had helipads.

Laurie Fell was one of them.

It had taken a phone call to Kennedy-Craig’s PA to find it. She had clearly not wanted to hand over the particulars, but it was amazing how you could change your mind about withholding information when your boss was dead. It turned out that Laurie Fell was rented by Tactika for most of the year. The owner was a lady called Nellie Lowther, who was an ex-teacher at a local school in Keswick, but recently retired two years ago.

‘Why didn’t he just buy it?’ Dan had asked. ‘He could clearly afford it, if we are to believe what they’re saying in the press.’