Juliette shrugged, and led the way, up a ramp and through a pair of double doors. The building was a wide meandering corridor, lined with apertures on either side. Claire could hear the distinctive gritty sound of a trowel on plaster. She hoped Baz would keep quiet as she passed him.

‘There will be glass tanks in here,’ Juliette said. ‘We’ve got anacondas, boa constrictors, pythons, and a bunch of other reptiles, many of them endangered species. They’re currently in the old barn, which is difficult and expensive to heat.’

‘There must be strict import rules.’

‘Yes, but we don’t import. The snakes are almost entirely rescues, sourced in the UK. They used to be sold quite widely in pet shops, and we buy them from owners who got bored or are incapable of looking after them. People don’t understand that the constrictors have very precise requirements yet spend almost all their time asleep. They can live for decades and get very large.’

They passed Baz and Jakes, who were working on the ceiling of one of the spurs off the main corridor. ‘All this work will be finished in a couple of days,’ Juliette said. ‘As you probably guessed, the building was designed to represent the sinuous shape of a snake.’ She waggled her hips in illustration.

With that sixth sense that men have for a sight worth seeing, Baz’s eyes flicked sideways at Juliette. Up, down, then a lingering glance at her breasts. It took a couple of seconds to register that Claire was there too. A splat of dropped plaster punctuated his surprise. He squeezed out a guilty smile and then went back to his work. His neck coloured slightly. Claire understood. She could read him like a dirty book.

Juliette led her on towards the end of the corridor, where the breeze-block construction was still visible. Claire looked to her left. A staircase, going down. ‘What’s down here?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. Nothing worth seeing, I’m sure.’

‘May I?’ Claire asked as she began to descend.

‘What are you doing?’ Juliette asked, following the policewoman down the stairs. At the bottom, an open door led to a small room, maybe ten feet square, on which the plasterwork had already been finished. On the floor there was a mattress, still in its plastic wrapper. A urinal-style gulley was at one end of the room. ‘I really must ask you to stop,’ Juliette protested.

Claire ignored her request and stepped into the room. ‘What’s this for?’

‘I told you, I don’t know. Now unless you have a warrant I must ask you to leave. If you have any more questions you should ask Gus.’

The detective inspector took a couple of photographs on her phone, and then complied. Juliette guided her upstairs and out of the building.

‘Well, time for me to go up to the house,’ Claire said. ‘Thank you for your time.’