Judith’s smile froze and Suzie’s eyes widened in surprise. How come her joke had spooked Judith? As for Becks, being the vicar’s wife, she was a past master at saving awkward situations.

‘You were telling us about Iqbal,’ she said to Suzie. ‘Was he the poor man who was murdered?’

‘He sure was,’ Suzie said.

As Suzie filled Becks in on how she knew Iqbal, Judith went over to the sideboard, downed her drink and poured herself another. When the women weren’t looking, she touched the silver chain around her neck with the key on the end. It was still there. Still safe. As Suzie finished telling her story, Judith put on a smile and went over to join the other two.

‘And he was shot dead?’ Becks asked, still trying to process what she’d heard.

‘I know,’ Suzie said. ‘Crazy. But the thing is, Judith here came and found me because she thinks Iqbal’s murder is connected to the death of her neighbour.’

‘It must be,’ Judith said. ‘Murders don’t happen in Marlow. If two happen in the space of three days, they have to be linked.’

‘I reckon you’re right,’ Suzie said. ‘It’s the reason I wanted to speak to you. You see, Iqbal’s imam rang me this afternoon. He said he was putting together the funeral arrangements, and the police gave him my number. Did I know how to contact Iqbal’s family?’

‘And do you?’ Becks asked.

‘No. Whenever I asked him about his family, he said he didn’t have any, and then he’d change the subject. He was much happier talking about boats.’

‘Boats?’ Becks asked.

‘God, yes, they were his passion. Once he got going on the subject, there was no stopping him. He was saving up to buy his own boat that he could keep on the river in Marlow. His dream was to do all of the waterways of the UK. But the point is, the imam said Iqbal didn’t attend his mosque that much, so he didn’t have any friends there. In fact, I was about the only person he could find who he could invite to the funeral. So would I come?’

‘And what did you say to that?’ Becks asked.

‘I said I’d go, it’s the least I can do. Iqbal was my friend. But it’s not good that no one else will be there, so I was wondering,’ Suzie said, turning to Judith, ‘would you come as well?’

‘To Iqbal’s funeral?’

‘Seeing as you think his death may be connected to your neighbour’s. Maybe someone will turn up out of the woodwork like a long-lost sister or something. It’ll give you a chance to have a poke around. And anyway, the more the merrier, I say, when it comes to funerals.’

‘You do?’ Judith asked, tickled by Suzie’s turn of phrase.