“Phyllis is right – it could have been the wife or the brother who took him away,” Liam said. “He’d have gone willingly with either of them.”

“Okay, but even if one or both had a motive, on what premise did they get him to go with them?” Phyllis said, closing one eye to think. “They’d hardly have suggested a walk at that time of night in the lashing rain, would they? In fact, whoever it was, what ruse did they use to get him to go with them?”

“Blackmail?” I suggested.

“Bribery?” Liam said.

We sat there, the three of us, stumped, sipping at our drinks.

“Did Mary say she heard a car?” I asked eventually. “Or just people coming in?”

Phyllis shook her head. “All she heard was the front door.”

I wondered if this was what Phyllis and Mary had been talking about in the Beacon Hall too; had Phyllis been quizzing Mary, or was Mary asking her friend if she could figure anything out?

“Is there anyone who lives close to Mary who might have been looking out the window and seen anything?” I asked.

But I knew the answer before Liam and Phyllis shook their heads. Part of the attraction of Mary’s was that it was out on its own, on the brow of a hill with spectacular views of the surrounding countryside. We were all clutching at straws, and we knew it.

Suddenly the pub door opened, and Derek and Amanda came in. There was a hush, the usual response to the recently bereaved. They walked straight up to the bar, avoiding any eye contact. But they were unlucky in having to wait for a few minutes while Tony served Barbour-jacket man at the end of the bar so they stood there looking a bit lost. When Amanda pressed her hand to her forehead, looking distressed, Phyllis stood up and made her way over to them.

I was surprised. I’d have thought the bookseller was the last person Bob’s widow would want to see after the remark about her dead husband. And I was even more surprised when, after exchanging a few words with them, Phyllis returned to our table to say, “Shove up. They’re coming to join us.”

Liam stood up and shook hands, offering condolences. They both looked awful, Amanda, in particular. Her eyes had a glassy quality that I hadn’t noticed before. She’d changed clothes since we’d seen her at the hall: she was wearing a glittery top over her black trousers as if she was dressed up to go out. It seemed a little off, but I suppose the pub was a better option than sitting in the B & B all evening.

“Can’t be easy being stuck somewhere you don’t know at a time like this,” Liam said, once they were settled in their seats.

Amanda muttered, “No, it isn’t.”