Outside, Priest and Georgie had to battle their way through a congregation spilling out of a small gallery underneath Priest’s apartment block. Mostly corporate sponsors in pinstriped suits, more men than women, clutching large fishbowl-sized glasses of red wine and laughing with each other in a forced, detached way. A few arty types too, in garish tweed sports jackets and absurdly cut beards.

‘Some French artist’s new exhibition,’ Priest called back over his shoulder by way of explanation.

‘Bit early for drinking,’ Georgie remarked.

‘Not in France.’

‘I’ve been thinking about the Elias house in Norfolk,’ Georgie said as they made their way back towards the office.

‘Me too. No doubt we’re thinking the same thing.’

‘Why was the cellar flooded? The house is two miles from the coast, on high ground and built on clay.’

‘Quite. Perhaps the flood wasn’t the result of something natural. Solly pulled off the title deeds from the Land Registry; the house was transferred into Alexia’s sole name in 1989, which incidentally is the same year they bought the house in Kent where they now live. That house is also in Alexia’s name only.’

‘Why would they flood the cellar?’ asked Georgie.

‘Possibly to make their quick exit look like it was because the property was defective, and also to explain why they didn’t want to sell it.’

Georgie agreed. ‘Something happened in 1989. Something that meant Alexia and Dominique had to leave their home but without arousing suspicion.’

‘Maybe I can leave that bit with you. The local archives might be a good starting point?’

‘I guess they’re in Norwich but I’ll check.’

‘OK.’ As they crossed the road, Priest’s phone buzzed. He checked and found a message from Solly. He’d found something on Simeon’s phone, something other than the exchange of messages with USER3412. ‘I’ve got to check something out. Are you going to be OK?’

‘Of course.’ She seemed slightly perturbed that he asked the question but flashed him a smile before saying, ‘I’ll get a train.’

‘They’re on strike. Didn’t you see the news?’

‘Oh.’ Georgie thought for a moment. It wasn’t ideal to involve someone else but there seemed no choice. Charlie couldn’t drive her; he had other things to attend to. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll get a lift.’

‘You sure?’

‘Absolutely. Let’s get back and I’ll arrange to be picked up from the office.’’

Priest drove to the office and abandoned the Volvo outside the Piccolo Cafe, which would annoy the owner no end but he didn’t have time to worry about that. When he got to Solly’s office he knocked and waited for the accountant to clean the handle before opening the door at an angle predefined by the clear line marked across the carpet. Inside, everything was as it usually was and Priest was shown to a seat opposite Solly.