“I spoke to him this morning as a matter of fact,” I said and they both turned to me. “It was Jack from Glendara Taxis – he gave me a lift in from Malin. All he said was that he thought Bob Jameson was a heart attack waiting to happen. That was before the news came out about the snakebite and everyone thought that’s what had killed him.”

“He was an unhealthy-looking man all right,” Phyllis said grimly. “But I suppose we won’t know anything till the post-mortem. So what about when they got back to the guesthouse, I wonder?”

“Derek said he and Amanda went straight to bed,” I said.

Liam’s eyes narrowed in amusement.

“Separately,” I added quickly. “Bob stayed outside for a cigarette. Derek says he thinks he heard him come in, but he can’t swear to it.”

“A cigarette?” Phyllis said, her brow furrowed. “Wasn’t he head of a cancer charity at some stage?”

“That’s why he kept it a secret, apparently, but he just couldn’t give them up.”

The bookseller made a harrumphing noise. “Seems like that man was full of secrets.”

Liam frowned. “But it was pelting. Would he really stay outside in that weather even if he was desperate for a fag?”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I noticed a shed,” I said. “Maybe he had his cigarette in there?”

“Maybe.” Phyllis sat back with satisfaction. “And maybe someone was waiting for him there and nabbed him.”

“Or persuaded him to go with them,” Liam suggested. “He was a big man, he’d be hard to transport if he was unconscious.”

This tallied with what Molloy had said, that Bob Jameson went willingly with whoever it was that had killed him.

“I’ll ask Mary about the shed,” Phyllis said, eagerly taking out her mobile phone. And before we could stop her, she had dialed the number and was walking away from the table. Liam took another slug of his pint.

I sat back for a few seconds, the firelight warming my face. I watched Phyllis pace up and down the pub muttering into her phone and Liam contemplating things through the prism of his glass, and I was fascinated by their curiosity, their eagerness to investigate what had happened to this stranger in their town.

“So, who was your prospective customer?” I asked.

Liam frowned, mystified.

“The man looking in your window earlier,” I clarified, remembering suddenly that Lissa hadn’t replied to my text. I’d never received the photograph of her husband that I’d asked for.

“Oh him.” Liam shook his head. “He wasn’t a prospective customer. Said he was just curious what the prices were like up here. He seemed a bit lost, to be honest, as if he was killing time.” He trailed off; something had caught his eye at the bar. “There he is now, as a matter of fact. He’s just come in.”