‘Aye, but you need a spare body, to hang the spurious evidence on, don’t you?’ Rainy said. ‘Do we now think that Ozzy would kill someone else, bury him in a garden, then dig the wee fella up again to chuck him in a grave by the river hoping to fool his enemies?’

Gillard nodded, conceding that this would drastically change their understanding of the missing man.

‘It wouldn’t fool his enemies either,’ Hoskins said. ‘If I wanted to bump him off, it would be a bit of a coincidence to hear that somebody else had done the killing for me. And honestly, I’d never believe it without a heap of evidence.’

Rainy was stroking her chin. ‘There is a circumstance in which Ozzy’s enemies might want to mock up a body to look like his.’

Everyone turned to look at her.

‘These enemies, whoever they are, are aware that we might still be looking for Ozzy, as we believe Hampshire Constabulary is too. So they offer us the dummy, which means they get to continue their search without much chance of running into us examining the same clues to his current whereabouts. Then, when they do get him, and dispose of the body, we don’t think of Ozzy Blanchard because, hey, we’ve already got his body.’

‘Rainy, your mind is as twisted as any killer’s,’ Hoskins said.

Gillard laughed. ‘I prefer the simpler idea that Ozzy just wants us to think he’s dead. Besides, the latest forensics open up a few new leads for us to follow. We already have a rough age for the victim and an imputed height, five foot nine or so. Rainy, would you compare that with the list of missing people in a hundred-mile radius?’

‘Righto.’

Gillard peered at his screen, where his economic crime specialist had been sitting quietly. ‘Shireen, glad to have you back. As you are aware, Hampshire Constabulary under DCS Stella Anderson seems to be investigating financial irregularities at Aqua Western, but not sharing intelligence with us. As you’re self-isolating, you’re in the perfect position to shadow that inquiry. I want you to dig into everything you can about the company if you can do so without getting under Anderson’s feet.’

‘I’ve already started my research,’ she said. ‘It seemed easier to start from the top down, where there is plenty of published material about the company’s capital-light approach.’

Shireen combined fine Middle Eastern features and almond-shaped eyes with a nasal Birmingham twang she had picked up from her husband. She was a fully qualified accountant and had a work ethic second to none. He just hoped she didn’t incur Anderson’s wrath.

‘None of this helps with the mystery of the Anglo-Saxon sword stuck in yon fella’s neck, does it?’ Rainy asked.

‘That’s true,’ Gillard conceded. ‘No sign of fragments of it in Cleaver’s home, nor any other Anglo-Saxon items.’