I rooted for the Post-it pad in my bag, the one I’d had in Molloy’s place, and I handed it to her. “It’s a Companies Office search. I want you to find out whatever you can about the Jameson Grace Charity.”

“That’s the charity the cycle was for? What do you want to know?”

“Oh, just the basics, who is on the board of directors, if they have charitable status, if they’ve filed the appropriate returns, that kind of thing. Anything else you can turn up.”

“Okey doke.” She didn’t ask any questions. She was used to my oddities at this stage.

I went upstairs. On the landing. I called down, “Leah?”

“Yeah?”

“Did Marina leave back her key?”

“The key to the office?” There was a pause and the sound of some rummaging about. “Doesn’t look like it. She never gave it to me anyway, and it’s not on the hook.”

I wasn’t happy about this, but it did give me the excuse I needed to talk to her again. But before I did anything else, I rang Connie at the bank and asked her to prepare the necessary paperwork to remove Marina as signatory, adding that I’d call in to sign it when I got a chance.

Then I worked away for an hour or two, disturbed only by the odd phone call. I was relieved to see my impression had been correct; despite her messy working methods, Marina was a decent solicitor. Her work was good, everything was relatively up to date and, with the morning as quiet as it was, it was easy enough to catch up. I suspected what was going on outside my window was considerably more frantic; the growl of tractors and diggers passing by showed that the clean-up process had begun in earnest.

When I went down for a coffee at eleven Leah told me she’d made lots of appointments for the rest of the week. She also had the results of the searches I’d asked her to do, which she handed over as she sipped her tea.

The first was a Company’s Registration Office search with a list of directors. I scanned the page quickly and apart from Bob Jameson, none was familiar, though I was a little surprised his wife wasn’t there. Then I saw Leah had handwritten a name at the bottom of the sheet: Julian Burns. I had to look at it twice.

“Julian Burns – Jude – is a director of the Jameson Grace Charity?” I read it again, before looking up. This did not tally with anything Jude had said to me. The impression he’d given was that he was only involved in the cycle to keep an eye on his daughters. That he might have any deeper involvement with Bob Jameson’s charity simply didn’t add up.