Liz answered almost at once. ‘Mattie! Are you okay? Have you seen something?’

He told her briefly what had occurred and that he was waiting for the police.

‘Matt Ballard! If I wasn’t so worried about you, you’d get the bollocking of your life!’

‘I took a tumble, that’s all, sweetheart. Out of practice, I guess, but I’m fine,’ he lied. Meanwhile, his head throbbed as if he had the granddaddy of all hangovers.

‘I’m on my way. I’ll wait with you, and then I’ll drive you home. We can pick up your car later.’

He was still feeling nauseous when he saw the flashing blue lights of a squad car making its way along the road from the village.

Matt stood up, dizziness forcing him to hang on to the arm of the bench for a moment before he made his way gingerly towards the two uniformed officers getting out of the car.

He was pleased to see PC Jack “Swifty” Fleet, who was accompanied by a new young female PC. She smiled at him. ‘So, you’re the famous DCI Ballard. Pleased to meet you, sir. PC Debbie Hume. Swifty here never stops talking about you.’

Matt managed a feeble smile. ‘I don’t think I am quite living up to my reputation tonight. I’ve been keeping an eye on Mrs Swain’s house for her, but so far I’ve achieved nothing but a thumping great crack on the head for my trouble.’

The policewoman looked concerned. ‘I don’t need to tell you that you should get that head looked at, sir, do I?’

‘That’s exactly what I would tell a victim, but I’m fine, honestly, and besides I know what they’d say — standard head injury instructions, sleepiness, vomiting, visual disturbances and all that. No, I’m okay really, just shaken up, and I didn’t black out completely.’

‘Concussion can cause you to fall unconscious for just a few seconds, you know. You don’t have to have been out for hours. You really should have twenty-four hours in hospital, under observation. Look at you, sir, you’re still dizzy, aren’t you?’

‘I’m okay, really,’ Matt insisted, and she held up her hands.

‘Well, as you know, we can’t make you go to hospital, but if you have someone at home, get them to keep an eye on you, won’t you? Now, why don’t you sit down and tell us exactly what happened?’

Swifty Fleet went to check the passage and the back of the house and came back to report that he had found a discarded petrol can and a torn up sheet close to the coal shed door. ‘Unless the old dear has taken to setting fire to her bed-linen rather than washing it, I’d say that you have just saved her from having her house burned down.’