‘Don’t forget – when you pick up the car, there’s my dry-cleaning to get too. The ticket’s behind the clock. Make sure they got rid of the stain on the trousers, blood on the left knee. Pick up Dexter’s tablets from the vet, and don’t forget to wheel the bin out. Recycling not green waste.’

‘Right.’ She watched her husband’s face veer to panic at the prospect of inheriting this Gordian knot of multitasking. ‘See you later, love.’

She kissed him on the cheek and stopped in the utility room to pick up her grab bag. Wellingtons, torch, and fresh packets of plastic gloves and booties.

Once in the car, routine returned. She checked in on the comms system, hit the blue lights and left rubber on the road. At least the blues would get her past the roadworks on the main road.

Traffic on the A3050 was stationary in both directions. Claire had to take ownership of the middle of the road with sirens and lights. Motorists were hanging out of their windows taking photos on their phones, and others had even parked on the verge in order to get a closer view. A couple of uniformed officers were dealing with it. Two patrol cars and a CSI van were also parked on the grass. Crime scene tape ran back from the forty limit sign a good fifty yards, and a crime-scene tent was already visible inside the nature reserve. She recognised Yaz Quoroshi, talking to another CSI technician.

As she added her own vehicle to the melee, she spotted PC Jim Cottesloe talking to a scruffy young man wearing a cycle helmet while a middle-aged man with a black labrador stood by. She got out and went over to the group. The younger man turned to her. It was Jakes, her husband’s colleague on the zoo job.

‘Small world, Michael,’ she said. ‘Are you our witness again?’

‘Hi, er…’ He clearly recognised her but was struggling with her name.

‘Claire Mulholland, Barry’s partner. Detective inspector.’

He nodded. ‘I remember.’

‘So, you were a witness on Tagg’s Island the other week, and now you’re here.’

‘Bit of a coincidence, I’d say,’ Cottesloe volunteered, staring hard at Jakes.

‘Yes.’ There was a waft of vomit about him.

‘And you are a witness too?’ Claire turned to ask the dog walker.

‘Not exactly. I just found this young man in a state of distress. I haven’t seen the body, just his picture of it.’

Claire called over a uniformed officer to look after him and turned back to Jakes.