Cooper thought they ought to go carefully with Melvyn Hudson and his staff. Hudson and Slack was the sort of business that survived on reputation. It could suffer badly from gossip and unfounded rumour. Besides, these were people of guarded emotions, practised at putting up a façade. It was difficult to judge whether Hudson did it out of habit, or was trying to conceal some emotion that you wouldn’t want to see on the face of your funeral director.

McGowan looked up and noticed Cooper. He smiled and flexed his muscles. One of his tattoos moved as the skin stretched. A dragon spread its wings, its mouth opening and flickering with blue flames.

As he was leaving the building, Cooper saw Vernon Slack jog past towards the compound where the hearses and limousines were parked. Vernon’s bony wrists protruded from his cuffs as he tried to adjust the knot of his black tie. But doing it while he was running only made things worse. The way he moved reminded Cooper of Tom Jarvis’s dog, Graceless. He looked the sort of clumsy innocent who’d end up getting hurt, simply because he knew no better.

The tree that had been planted over the body was no more than six feet high – a weeping willow sapling with slender, whippy branches and bark that looked almost yellow in the afternoon sun. Below it, the ground was barely disturbed. The earth would soon grass over and blend with the surrounding area, becoming a natural part of the young woodland. Only a small plaque wired to the trunk of the tree marked the spot as a grave.

Fifteen yards away, Fry turned from the fence and walked back across the grass. As always, she looked curiously out of place among trees. She instinctively hunched her shoulders to avoid them, as if their leaves might bite her. Cooper suspected that Fry and nature existed in two different worlds, with no points of contact.

‘Is there no security of any kind in this place?’ demanded Fry.

The woman in the black suit was one of the managers of the green burial site. She raised her eyebrows at Fry. ‘Security? We don’t need security here.’

‘Oh, really? Perhaps you should think again. We’ll send someone out to advise you.’

The woman scowled and went to Vivien Gill, who stood in the middle of a small group of relatives and friends.

‘It’s bizarre, isn’t it?’ said Fry when she got Cooper alone.

‘Why?’

‘Well, after what happened to her daughter’s body, abandoned in the countryside like that? Why would Mrs Gill want to plant Audrey here? She might as well have left her where she was.’

‘It makes sense to me.’