‘From what we hear, they can be pretty ruthless. They put the word about that a small funeral director is likely to turn up for a funeral with vehicles that don’t match, or a bunch of staff in badly fitting suits who’ve never been nearer to a funeral than the bar of the Cemetery Inn. Everybody wants a funeral to go off without a hitch, and they’re making decisions under stress anyway.’

Hitchens looked from one to the other. ‘Hudson told us that business was good, didn’t he?’

Fry shook her head. ‘What he told us was that there’s an increasing demand. Changing demographics, and all that. That doesn’t mean all the new business is coming his way, does it? It depends what inroads the competition are making in this area. I wonder how his partner fitted in? Was Richard Slack a modernizer or a traditionalist? Which of them was the real driving force behind the business? It would be interesting to know the relationship between them.’

Fry tapped her teeth with a pen for a moment, then stopped suddenly and looked at the end of the pen in horror.

‘There’s one other thing of interest,’ said Murfin, sounding a bit smug.

‘Have you been saving the best for last?’ said Hitchens.

Murfin smiled. ‘A few months ago, Hudson and Slack reported a break-in at their premises in Manvers Street. Among other items, the thieves took a plastic drum containing twenty-five litres of embalming fluid – some stuff called Chromotech.’

‘What use is that to anybody?’ asked Hitchens.

‘It provides a new drug experience, if you’re into that kind of thing. Apparently, the latest trend is to mix embalming fluid with cannabis for a special high. Another idea imported from the USA.’

‘That sounds ridiculously dangerous.’

‘You’re not kidding.’

Fry leaned forward across the DI’s desk. ‘The medical advice is that this stuff is highly corrosive if exposed to skin or taken orally. Mixed with cannabis, it makes users violent and psychotic. It causes hallucinations, euphoria, increased pain tolerance, and produces feelings of anger, forgetfulness and paranoia. In extreme cases, it can result in blindness or even death.’

Hitchens raised an eyebrow. ‘Interesting. Were drug users blamed for the break-in? Was anyone charged?’

‘There were no charges,’ said Murfin. ‘But the theory was that someone read about the idea on the internet and decided to experiment. They took some other stuff at the same time, property worth about ten thousand pounds in total. Anything small and easy to dispose of for a few quid.’

‘What sort of stuff?’

Murfin looked at the incident report again. ‘Oh, you know – scalpels, hypodermic needles, medical supplies. Anything that looked like pharmaceuticals, I suppose. There’s a whole list of items. Including a set of trocars, whatever they are. And don’t tell me – I don’t think I want to know.’

‘Hold on,’ said Fry. ‘Let’s have a look at that list.’