There was a sleek-looking Dobermann pinscher dog outside on the grass, whining. The poor creature looked distressed, but DS Malik knew that Dobermanns could be vicious. How could she secure and process the scene with a dog like that in the garden?

‘Sarge,’ the constable said, entering the room from the main door. ‘I think there’s a woman outside spying on us.’

‘What’s that?’

‘There’s a woman in the garden hiding behind a bush.’

‘Okay, keep the scene secure,’ DS Malik said and left the house at speed.

Outside, it took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sunshine, but she could see that a laurel hedge separated Iqbal’s front garden from the street, and there were a few bushes near a little gate that led onto the pavement. A bush snapped back and DS Malik saw a flash of clothing as someone went out of the gate and disappeared behind the hedge.

As DS Malik strode after the figure, she reached into her handbag and put her hand around a little extendable truncheon.

‘Excuse me?’ she called out as she stepped into the street.

The person slowed to a stop and turned to look at DS Malik.

DS Malik let go of the truncheon and took her hand out of her handbag as she saw that she was talking to a very solid-looking woman who was about fifty years old. She had ruddy, sunburnt cheeks and was wearing dirty walking boots, a tatty, wide-brimmed hat, and various little bags and frayed dog leads hung off a belt tied tight around her waist. A jolly farmer type, DS Malik thought to herself.

‘Me?’ the woman said, pointing at herself as though she was the last person in the world DS Malik would want to talk to.

‘That’s right. You’ve been spying on us.’

The woman put her hand to her chest in another show of mock surprise and this time mouthed the word ‘Me?’

‘Could you please tell me your name?’

‘Sure. No problem. But why do you want to know?’

‘Just tell me your name.’

The woman thought for a bit. Looked up at the sky. Wrinkled her nose. Basically, she had a good rummage around for an answer.

‘Okay. My name’s Denise.’

DS Malik could see that the woman was lying.

‘It is?’

‘That’s right,’ the woman said with a confident nod of her head.

‘And your surname?’

‘My surname?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m Denise … Denison.’

‘Your name is Denise Denison?’

‘Yup,’ the woman said and beamed, delighted with her cunning.

‘You think I’m going to believe that?’

‘Of course. It’s like I said. I’m Denise Denison.’

‘Then I’m going to make this very simple for you. My name’s Detective Sergeant Tanika Malik, I’m at this property investigating a suspicious death, and you need to tell me your real name at once or I’ll place you under arrest.’