‘And wait half an hour for you to arrive? Well, I did open the door and I saw this rather scruffy individual with a bicycle and head-torch. I asked him what he thought he was doing terrifying residents at this time of night.’

‘What did he say?’

‘It was most peculiar. He said he had come to lay some flowers on the water for the dead man.’

Babbage put down his pen. ‘Sorry, I’m not with you here. What dead man?’

‘I told the operator. I’m the woman who discovered the dead body here on Ash Island three days ago. I was interviewed by your colleagues about it. It was just by my houseboat. Now I have this strange man coming along late at night, claiming to lay flowers for the victim.’

‘That’s very distressing for you,’ Babbage said.

‘Well indeed, but don’t you think it might be pertinent to the case? As I understand it no one has been arrested for this murder, and whoever this person was knew exactly where the body had been found. I don’t think that had been publicised.’

Babbage conceded the point, thanked the lady for her public-spirited intervention and said that an officer would be round to interview her later that day.

Gary Tilling heard the letter box clack and shuffled out to the front door in his slippers. There was a sheaf of post. Not normal for a Tuesday. More like a Thursday delivery. Opening the envelopes, the first thing he saw was that the service was due on the stairlift. He’d ring them up today and make an appointment, even though she’d not been able to use it for five years. He sometimes wondered if her mobility would ever improve. Mum’s health had got worse and worse over the years. Osteoporosis, type two diabetes, and now ankylosing spondylitis on her spine. Some days she could hardly move. Looking after her had occupied more and more of his time.