Frances agreed. “Of course, you will! You’re a great journalist and any publication would be more than lucky to have you.” She hesitated. “So, what are you going to do about the Bates Motel then?”

I blinked across the desk at her. “Bates Motel?” It took me a moment to realise she was referring to Merry Wood. I let out a bark of laughter. “It’s not that bad. Ok, it’s secluded and a bit creepy in the dark…”

Frances smiled. “You’re really selling it to me. Have you ever considered becoming an estate agent?”

“Very funny. Seriously though, with a bit of TLC, it could be a stunning house. You should see the front garden and all the wild roses and heather. If the back garden is anything like that, it could be spectacular.”

Frances toyed with her mouse. “Very odd though, that it’s all still furnished, but no one seems to be about.” She smiled over. “Trust your Spidey senses, Leonie. If you think there might be a story there, keep at it.”

It was then that April from the council press office rang back. “I haven’t had any luck here,” she said, “but I did manage to speak to my friend at Registers of Scotland. According to him, it was a couple by the surname of Merry that owned the house in the 1930s. They lived there for forty-odd years, before selling it to a couple by the name of Talbot.”

I processed all this. The house must have been named after Mr & Mrs Merry. “Ok, thanks April. That’s very helpful. And this Talbot couple still own it?”

“It would seem so. Jerry, my friend at RoS, said that any way.”

So, if they owned it, why had they left it sitting there like that, empty?

“Thank you, April. I really appreciate that.”

“No worries.”

I ended the call. Frances looked over. “Any updates on Amityville?”

I rolled my eyes at her. “That was April from the council. All she can tell me is that Merry Wood’s owners are said to be a couple with the surname Talbot.”

“Yet they aren’t living there?” she puzzled.

“It seems that no one is.”

She picked up her Cath Kidston mug and thrust it across at me. “This just gets curiouser and curiouser. Right. Your turn to make another cuppa!”

“You heading straight home now?” asked Frances, sweeping on her fitted jacket. “If not, I thought we could go for a drink?”

I glanced out of the office window. There had been a sudden burst of rain a short while ago and the beach looked like it had been rinsed in diamonds. “Could we do that another evening? I was thinking about trying to speak to the rude woman in the woods about Merry Wood again.”

Frances pulled a face. “Once you get your teeth into something, Baxter! Don’t you ever switch off?”