‘William! How long do you think Mrs Holland was alone here? An old lady with pots of dosh around. If anyone was going to get burgled, it would have been her, right? And was she? No. If she could be happy here alone, then so can I.’

For a second, he didn’t care what she did. He was tired of all this. If she wanted her precious house to herself, then so be it. Then he thought of those awful paintings in her studio.

He rubbed his tired eyes. At least he had a little more time. He hadn’t yet been given a date for the funeral. Maybe they could reach a compromise by then. Maybe.

That afternoon Will drove out to Tanners Fen. He had already rung Matt and Liz to tell them what had happened, and they had offered to do anything they could to help out. Now he wanted to see them in person.

When he arrived, his friends were engrossed in sorting through the contents of an ancient battered suitcase. The kitchen table was piled with yellowing documents and dozens of old photographs.

‘We’ve just found this case — it was stuck on top of a wardrobe,’ explained Matt. ‘We’ve been putting together an archive on this particular area of the fens. I’ve been meaning to sort all this stuff for donkey’s years, and Kate’s research has given me the push I needed. It seems that I really do know quite a bit about Whisper Fen.’

Liz led Will through to the dining room, where he saw another table covered in papers, folders and clear plastic envelopes all labelled in black marker pen.

‘Hell-fire!’ Will exclaimed. ‘This looks like the case notes from a major investigation.’ He looked at some of the files of photos and was surprised to see one marked “Holland House.” The pictures were in black-and-white and sepia.

Liz gave him a grin. ‘It’s the only way we know how to work. Once a copper always a copper, I suppose.’ She reached out and squeezed his arm. ‘How are you doing, Will? Are you coping alright?’

He gave her a tired smile. ‘I’m okay, Liz, thank you. In a way it’s been made easier by the fact that I saw so little of Eva since she married. We had very different lives. Even so, it’s hard to believe I’ll never see her again.’

‘And Kate?’

What to say? He didn’t know himself. Before he could answer, Matt joined them carrying three mugs of tea. They sat at the table amidst the piles of documents.

‘Kate isn’t going with me to the funeral.’