Mrs. Shackleton must be feeling desperate, feeling the strain of living in a wilderness of mines and farms and fields of rhubarb. If Mrs. Shackleton could face it, so could she.

She would take her big shopping bag. What’s more, she would straight away make a list of questions a person might ask neighbours about the shop. She would draw up a plan of campaign. There might be a need to stay overnight. Anything was possible when Mrs. Shackleton was on a case.

This was a matter of what the military would call reconnoitring.

Picking up her pencil, she wrote the word Questions. A person would want to know the rent, what stock was included, what the takings might be. Some trusting shopkeepers allowed their customers to put items on the slate. If customers did that, would they, in times of hardship, have the wherewithal to pay up?

None of that would help track down a killer. Unless there existed some customer unable to pay up and sufficiently fiendish that he or she would be willing to put an end to the obliging shopkeeper, and thereby wipe their own slate clean, risking hell and damnation in the process.

A person would want to know who lived nearby, and whether a woman taking over the business would be safe from thieves and murderers.

It made her jump when Harriet and Sergeant Dog came bounding into the kitchen. She quickly pushed a few items into her bag. She had been so absorbed as to not hear the pair come in. Having lately experienced an annoying earache, Mrs. Sugden worried a little. Could this be too much wax, or the onset of deafness?

“Did you come in right quiet just now?”

“No, just the usual.”

“You’ll be on your own for a while, Harriet. I’ve a bit of business to attend to.”

“Business for Auntie Kate you mean?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s all right. We don’t mind, do we, Sergeant Dog?”

The dog wagged his tail.

Mrs. Sugden frowned. “Sometimes little bits of business take longer than you think. If you need anything while I’m away, or if I’m delayed overnight, you’ve got Miss Merton close by.”

“I won’t need anything.”

“No, but if you do, you’ve got Mrs. Sykes nearby and you know where Mr. Duffield lives. Mrs. Duffield is a friend.”

“Yes I know all that.”

“Take any messages that come. If you have to go out, ask Mrs. Sykes to come and stand by the telephone.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just near Wakefield. I’m only being cautious in case something crops up.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ve to look at a shop.” She didn’t want Harriet traipsing along.

“You’re nervous aren’t you?”

“I’m not nervous. I leave nerves to other people. I’m just thinking about you and Sergeant Dog managing on your own.”

“Well tell me where you’re going.”