‘It may have escaped your attention as you’ve spent so little time on-site, David, but everything Beth claimed about Bailsgrove has turned out to be true. And from what Painter told me, Beth Kinsella was anything but mad. She was a dedicated and talented professional trying to juggle her research with caring for a father who’s seriously ill with dementia. Painter said he’s so bad now that he’s in a specialist nursing home at some place called Dronfield. But Beth was caring for him at home. And by all accounts her boyfriend was more concerned about the impact it might have on his career than anything Beth was going through. So, for your information, Beth Kinsella wasn’t a lunatic. She was trying to do the right thing. She was bloody good at her job and like most women got zero sodding support from the men around her. So, if you don’t mind, David, I’m tired and I really want to get some sleep.’

And with that she hung up.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Paul Marshall pulled over into the gateway and climbed out of his car. The field in front of him was a building site – literally. And that was how he liked it. The business had had some lean times recently, but one way or another he’d managed to survive even when he’d seen his competitors going to the wall. And he had no intention of joining them.

A foreman in hi-vis jacket and hard hat rushed over to greet him, but he dismissed him with a flick of his hand. He had business to attend to first.

He walked into the site office. A lone workman was sitting, mug in hand, with his feet on a chair.

Marshall bellowed, ‘Get out!’

The guy didn’t need telling twice. He sprang to his feet and all but sprinted out of the office door, trailing tea behind him as he went.

Marshall pulled the door to behind him and twisted the lock before pulling out his phone. He pulled up the number he was looking for and waited while it rang. ‘It took you long enough.’

A whispered voice said, ‘I was in the middle of something. What do you want?’

‘I want you to do what I’m paying you for.’

‘I am.’

Marshall lowered his voice. ‘That’s not what it looks like from here. As I see it, our little problem is getting worse and you need to deal with it. If you want your money you’re going to have to do something to earn it.’

The strain in the voice was clear. ‘It’s not that easy. There are complications.’

Marshall said, ‘Sod complications. I’ve had enough of this crap. You’ve dealt with it once. You can do it again.’

‘But it’s not that simple.’