‘I only realised that it matched when I put that bloody doll in Kate’s bag. I’m sorry, mate. Initially I didn’t have the heart to talk about it at all, then with everything going on, I forgot until a few minutes ago.’

Heavy footsteps on the stairs announced the return of Philip and Sam. The doctor had brought one of Kate’s paintings with him and with great care, propped it up on a side table. Then he dragged over a chair, picked up his brandy and sat facing the picture.

‘I’ve got the same problem as you, Matt. Something is bothering me, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

‘Jesus! I hate that!’ said Matt. ‘It’s like the other day when I got clobbered. Something someone said seemed significant, but I couldn’t remember for the life of me what it was. I actually remembered tonight when we found that underground workshop. I was talking to that PC, Debbie, and she commented on what had gone on at Little Anchor. I said that the poor dear would never come back if things continued the way they were. And that was it, that was all it was. It had nothing to do with her being Jewish, nothing to do with neo-Nazis. She was simply being driven out because someone wanted her cottage for some criminal activity. I think the underground room kind of confirms it, don’t you?’

‘Mmm.’ Sam was staring hard at the picture. It was the one depicting a creature descending the stairs into a cellar, clutching a child wrapped up in a bundle.

‘Do you recognise something?’ asked Will.

Philip too was staring at the illustration, horrified that such an abomination could have been created by the same person who had painted Sophie’s birthday picture.

‘Not the place, that’s not it at all, but something is crying out to me, and I don’t know what it is.’

Matt went and stood at his side. ‘Do you know, Prof, I feel the same way when I look at that. I’m certain there’s something there that I should be picking up on.’ He groaned. ‘Here we go again! Blast it!’