Matt and Liz returned from a very profitable sortie to the tiny village of Whisper Fen. Emilia wasn’t alone in being friendly with Gladys Conway, the local postmistress. Matt, too, was on first-name terms with her, and they learned a lot about Gerald Grove.

They went over what they had learned while preparing supper.

‘So now we know why he spends so much time wandering around the marsh. He’s a lepidopterist, an expert on moths and butterflies.’ Matt lowered two pieces of fillet steak into a pan, which soon began to sizzle.

‘And he’s studying this area as a hotspot for rare specimens.’ Liz was rinsing salad leaves under the tap. ‘Maybe Will is wrong about recognising him from before? He might be a bit of a ragbag, but I can’t see him falling foul of the law over a few old moths, can you?’

‘Ah well.’ Matt shrugged. ‘You know as well as I do that he could still have a murky past or be hiding dirty secrets, even if he is a scholar.’

‘True. And it is also true that no one has had a good word to say about him.’

They’d had a drink in the Silent Coachman, a tiny pub situated midway between Tanners Fen and Whisper Fen. The landlord, along with a few locals had been more than happy to share their views on Grove — and hadn’t held back.

Matt laughed. ‘I’ll say. The entire clientele awarded him the prize for “Rudest Man on the fens.”’

Liz put their dinner plates to warm, and sniffed the delicious aroma of peppered steak, while, in another pan, Matt was cooking mushrooms and tomatoes.

‘Can you check the oven chips, sweetheart? These won’t be too long now.’

Liz looked at the timer. ‘Five minutes.’

‘Perfect.’ He frowned. ‘I wish we could have got a sighting of the man himself.’

‘Me too,’ she said, ‘I need to have a picture of him in my head. Still, we have his full address now, which will help us with our background check. I must say, it’s a huge bonus that you know so many people around here.’

‘Well, I am a local, after all.’

‘What are your thoughts on those hostile acts against Emilia?’ Liz asked. ‘Now you’ve had time to consider them. Do you think it could possibly be someone with an ancient grudge against Germans?’

Matt sat down at the kitchen table. ‘I can’t see that being the reason. Sure, there’s probably one or two old-timers who still hark back to the war, but why now? Even before Leonard died, the Swains had been living here for donkey’s years. Why leave it until now to start hounding her?’

Liz helped herself to mustard. ‘That’s just what I’m asking myself too. I mean, the war ended in 1945.’