What’s more, Clare also only had Crabby’s word that Beth had claimed to have found something that proved the importance of the site. No one else seemed to know anything about it. Which, when she thought about it, seemed a curious state of affairs, given that Beth had previously spent so much time trying to convince the world that Bailsgrove had been a cult centre in the Iron Age. And even if Beth had made a big discovery, if she hadn’t actually told anyone other than Crabby then why would anyone have had a reason for killing her? The more she thought about it, the less sense it all made.

So she’d decided to put Crabby’s fantasies about dead hares behind her and concentrate firmly on the one thing she had no doubt Beth Kinsella would have given anything to be able to do – excavate Bailsgrove’s Iron Age temple.

To that end she and Jo now found themselves working on the foundation trench of what David had described as the ‘holy of holies’ or, as Malcolm had christened it, the ‘ho ho ho’. Clare had tried pointing out that there was a ‘ho’ too many in there, but by then it was too late. The name had stuck. She’d been tempted to mention that the name was more than a little irreverent given the nature of the site. But in the end she’d decided it was best to keep her thoughts to herself for fear of being labelled the site killjoy.

Jo was trowelling her way through a thick black layer in the top of the foundation trench. ‘This stuff’s solid charcoal.’

Clare got up from the bucket she was perching on by the side of the cutting and peered down. ‘Looks as if we know what the wall of the ho ho ho was made of, then.’

Jo nodded. ‘Uh huh. Split planks. And someone did a real thorough job of burning it down.’

Clare said, ‘Makes you wonder if it was deliberate.’

Jo laughed. ‘Those pesky Romans again.’

Clare said, ‘Maybe. But if it was, they did us a favour. We should be able to get some decent radio carbon samples from that lot. I’ll pop down to the office and get some tin foil to wrap the samples in.’

As Clare made her way downhill she could see that Malcolm was standing just outside the office door talking to someone. Thickset and wearing dark suit trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, even standing with his back to her she could tell that whoever it was meant business. And he and Malcolm appeared to be deep in conversation.

As she drew closer she called out, ‘Can I help you?’