She gave a gracious nod and took a couple of coppers from a small purse, ready to pay her tram fare. “Always happy to assist. Good luck, Mr. Sykes.”

He waited until the tram pulled away. They waved to each other.

She is a good old soul, Sykes thought as he walked to Albion Street, and not the fusspot that some make out.

He strode on, walking quickly, hoping that Mr. Duffield at the newspaper offices would be able to confirm whether Rothwell Manor was still in the hands of the Aspinall family.

It had surprised Jim Sykes when he learned Mr. Duffield’s Christian name was Niall. He’d had him down as a Septimius or a Theodore. The lank elderly gentleman was waiting at the entrance. Sykes felt a surge of gratitude that Mr. Duffield had come from home after being ready to put his feet up for the night and listen to his newly acquired wireless set.

Mr. Duffield had a good firm handshake. “Do you want me to tell you what I’ve found out as I walk you to your motor? You said it was urgent.”

“That would be grand. Is there much to tell? I’m parked just round the corner.”

Mr. Duffield was precise, as might be expected of a man who all of his life had worked at cataloguing and storing information that may or may not, now or in some distant future, be of interest to reporters or the vast local readership.

“Harry Aspinall has lived abroad for years. As far as I can gather, the family home has been locked up since the elder brother died fifteen years ago. And before you ask, it was natural causes—a heart attack. The Ordnance Survey map shows Rothwell Manor as quarter of a mile east of the church. Family money comes from interests in the railways, mines and land. He is a major shareholder in several local mines and the Northern Railway.”

“Any other local connections, distant relations, friendships?”

“He hasn’t been back to England for years, or not that I know of. One suspects a rift of some kind but not the kind of thing that finds its way into the papers. Oh, he is a trustee of a children’s home. I came across an account of a meeting from a few years ago. He had sent apologies for non-attendance.”

“Had he put down roots in France?”

“I’m sure he had, after all those years. He left England thirty years ago. I suppose as a second son he had to make his way in the world. I don’t know what he did during the war. Perhaps he passed as French. Here’s a note of sources.” He handed Sykes a quarto sheet. “That’s as much as I could find in the time available, Jim.”