Fry placed a finger on another face. ‘I think this one could be Michael Clay, though,’ she said. ‘A lot younger, of course. But there’s something about the shape of the face that’s very distinctive.’

‘What else is in the envelope, Diane?’

‘Just these –’

Fry held out a tie with a small logo on it, and a badge identical to the one Cooper had seen in the drawer in the other bedroom.

‘“Forewarned is forearmed” – but what does it mean?’

Before Fry could reply, the front door of the house opened cautiously. They heard a nervous voice downstairs.

‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’

HER NAME WAS Pauline Outram, and she seemed to be permanently on the verge of bursting into laughter. What Fry had at first taken for a nervous cough was actually a sort of constant half-snigger, as if she didn’t want to be considered lacking in a sense of humour if someone made a joke that she didn’t understand. Fry wanted to tell her to stop it, that she wasn’t about to make any jokes.

‘We’re here because we’re looking for Michael Clay,’ said Fry.

‘That’s funny, because so am I.’

‘You don’t know where he is?’

‘He should be here. But I guess . . .’

‘You know who we are,’ said Fry, after identification had been shown. ‘Now explain to us who exactly you are.’

Fry was genuinely curious to know. She didn’t think Pauline Outram looked much like a secret mistress. Not even the right age, really. A fifty-one-year-old man going through a mid-life crisis was likely to go for someone about half his age. Or so she’d heard. But Pauline must be in her late thirties, and there was nothing sexy or glamorous about her. Nothing about Pauline Outram suggested she’d come here to meet a lover.

But the question didn’t seem easy for Pauline to answer. She looked from one detective to the other, struggling for words.

‘We won’t be shocked,’ said Fry. ‘You can tell us the truth. We only want to locate Mr Clay. It doesn’t matter what your relationship was, as long as it helps us to find him.’

And then it dawned on Pauline what Fry was suggesting.

‘Oh no, you’ve got it wrong,’ she said, shaking her head, that nervous half-laugh setting Fry’s nerves on edge.

‘Are you not having an affair with Michael Clay?’

‘No, no. You don’t understand. I’m not his lover. That’s not why he leased this house for me.’

‘Who are you, then?’

Pauline Outram looked her in the eye, her face calm and serious for the first time. And it was only then that Fry saw the faint family resemblance to Michael Clay.

‘I’m Michael’s niece. His brother Stuart’s daughter.’

Chapter Twenty-eight

BACK AT THE office half an hour later, Cooper went to his PC and Googled the motto on the badge he’d found in Eden View. Forewarned is forearmed. It was a common enough phrase, an old adage that he must have heard his parents use time and again.