There had been speculation that Elizabeth Sinclair had been having an affair but police dismissed this notion. DCI Wendy Lynch of Cumbria Police issued a statement that there was no suggestion whatsoever that these rumours were in fact anything other than local tittle-tattle, which was completely insensitive to the family’s current circumstances and in particular to Mr Harry Sinclair himself. Lynch went on to request that the family’s privacy was respected at this difficult time.

Steph picked up the phone and called her mother – DCI Wendy Lynch.

Chapter Four

Brighton, Monday, 6 May, 8.30 p.m.

Frustratingly, Steph’s call to her mother went to answerphone. She left a brief message, asking her mother to ring her in connection with the death of Elizabeth at Conmere. Steph had decided to keep it brief; she didn’t feel the need to elaborate, as her mother would, no doubt, recall the case.

She picked up the tub of ice cream, which had defrosted to the point that calling it ice cream was almost criminal, but nevertheless she managed to secure a spoonful of the cookie-dough mixture on the spoon. It struck Steph as strange that Wendy had never mentioned the Elizabeth Sinclair case. A death of a member of the Sinclair family was a little out of the ordinary and, although she knew Wendy wouldn’t have gone into any detail, the fact that her father had worked for the Sinclairs made it more personal and worthy of a mention at least.

Steph sighed as she savoured the ice cream in her mouth.

Steph knew it had been passed down through several Sinclair generations.

She wondered again why her mum had never mentioned Elizabeth’s death, and as she tracked back over Sonia Lomas’s timeline her idle curiosity morphed into something more insistent. She hoped her mum would talk about it, but Steph had long since learned that Wendy Lynch was a tough negotiator and not easy to move once she had made her mind up about something. In fact, Steph struggled to think of a time when Wendy had ever conceded.

Brighton, Tuesday, 7 May, 8.45 a.m.

Steph had to admit, twelve hours wasn’t exactly a long time to wait for her mother to reply, but she had been barely able to sleep last night as she had repeatedly gone over the whole Sonia Lomas message and everything connected with it. Her imagination had certainly been fired up and her desire to find out what her mother could tell her was in overdrive.

‘Ah, you’re there,’ she said when her mother answered the phone. ‘How are you?’

‘Hello. I’m fine. A little busy. Is everything OK, only I’m about to go out?’