‘Then we need to find out what he’s been up to,’ Abbott said. ‘I’ll get his address.’

‘You do that, but I expect he’ll be at the store.’

In the patrol car on the way to Edith Palmer’s house James told DC Abbott what he knew about Peter King, which wasn’t much.

‘He runs the store with his wife, Maeve,’ he said. ‘But she’s confined to a wheelchair following a stroke so isn’t as involved as she used to be.’

‘It can’t be easy for him,’ Abbott said. ‘My eldest sister lost the use of both her legs in a car accident. Her husband has really struggled to take care of her.’

‘That’s tough. Do you see them often?’

‘Not as much as I used to. They live in Norwich and having this job and a boyfriend who works all hours as a paramedic doesn’t leave me with a lot of free time.’

‘Have you been together long?’

‘Two years. We’ve talked about getting married, but we’re just not ready to start a family yet. What about you, guv? Do you have children?’

It was the question that James hated being asked.

‘We don’t, unfortunately, but it’s not through want of trying. We’d both like a child, or more than one, if possible.’

‘Well, if it’s any consolation, I have a friend who tried for years to conceive with her husband and when she finally did, she had triplets.’

James couldn’t help but smile. It made him realise how glad he was that DC Abbott had been assigned to the case. She was a breath of fresh air after DS Stevens, who seemed unable to shake off the chip on his shoulder.

‘Anyway, from babies back to the job in hand,’ James said. ‘Do we know anything else about this Edith Palmer apart from her name and address?’

‘Only that she lives alone and got put through to us after contacting the office in Kendal,’ DC Abbott said. ‘The officer who took the call didn’t ask many questions, but told her we’d be coming to see her.’

Just as she finished talking the patrol car pulled up outside Edith Palmer’s terraced house in Peabody Street. James noted that facing it across the road was an estate agent with a recessed entrance.

‘I wonder if that’s the doorway that Miss Palmer is referring to,’ he said as they climbed out of the car.

‘We’re about to find out,’ DC Abbott said.

The woman was small and plump and somewhere in her late sixties or early seventies. She had grey hair and wrinkled features and greeted them with a warm smile, inviting them into her kitchen, where they both declined her offer of tea.

‘I’m afraid we haven’t got time, Miss Palmer,’ James said. ‘Can you please just tell us what you saw last night?’

‘Of course, but I don’t want you to get the idea that I’m someone who spies on people. I just happened to look out of my bedroom window because I couldn’t sleep and wanted to see if it was snowing.’