I heard the sound of footsteps crossing the yard. Approaching through the semi-darkness. It was twilight, the sky a peony-pink in the west, wisps of chalky mist creeping into corners. The cicadas were in full voice and an owl was calling from the tree under which Goliath lay, a soft ghostly echo of his voice.

I was jumpy. For good reason. A man next to me got knifed today. I was in the barn now grooming Cosette with sweeping strokes along the length of her withers and back, and over the powerful white curve of her well-muscled flank. I rested my forehead against her stocky neck and inhaled the strong sweet scent of her hide. She was a horse who loved to be groomed and lifted her leg obligingly, huffing contentedly. I was checking her wound and looking for any cuts or nicks on her knees and pasterns when I caught the sound of boots on the cobbles. But it was a footfall I knew well.

‘Eloïse!’

‘Papa?’

‘Telephone call for you.’

I put down my brush, gentled Cosette’s soft muzzle and raced indoors.

‘Hello?’ I could feel a pulse ticking at my throat.

‘Eloïse? It’s Major Joel Dirke here. You left a message for me to call.’

‘Thank you for calling back, Major. Sorry to disturb your Sunday evening.’

‘Not at all. What can I do for you? Things are a bit crazy round here at the moment because of . . .’ He paused awkwardly. ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard.’

‘About Mickey Ashton.’ It hurt to say his name. ‘Yes, I was in Serriac today.’

‘Really? Maybe you’re one of the people we should be interviewing.’

A ripple of alarm shot through me. ‘I have already been interviewed by the police and made a statement.’

‘Good. Thank you. We’ll be taking over the investigation and going through them all.’ Another pause. I didn’t jump into it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he continued with his soft Southern voice, ‘it must have been . . . harrowing.’

‘Harrowing. Yes, you’ve found exactly the right word.’ I placed a hand hard on my throat to stop the pulse. ‘But that’s not why I rang you. I was feeding my horse earlier and remembered what you said about missing the horses on your father’s ranch.’ I ran my tongue over my dry teeth. ‘I wondered whether you’d like to come over and go for a horse-ride some time. It’s beautiful scenery round here.’

‘I’d love to, thank you. That would be mighty fine.’

‘Good.’

‘When were you thinking of?’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘I’m on duty tomorrow, I’m sorry. The day after? I have the afternoon off.’

‘That suits me. About three o’clock when it won’t be so hot?’

‘Perfect. Thanks for the invitation. I look forward to it.’

‘See you then.’