She started playing with the machine. Spooled it back and started playing the conversation again. The second time around it was no clearer. We could make out the tone of the words but not the content.

‘This is madness,’ said Cordy, frustrated.

I heard the pantry door suck in as cold air blasted down the corridor. Somebody was coming in the front door. I started forward, my heart in my mouth, but Cordy was too intent on listening to let me hide the device or silence the voice. A moment later the kitchen door opened and Brian was standing there, head cocked. His face was red, as if he’d been running, and he was narrowing his eyes at the tape recorder.

‘That a Frog voice?’ he asked, and his question was to Cordelia and not me.

‘Go get changed, Brian,’ I said, standing up. ‘I’ll make you some tea.’

He shook his head at me and focussed on the tape recorder. He was angling his head like he was moving the aerial on the TV, trying to get a better reception.

‘They’re having a ding-dong,’ he said. ‘Who is it? Fairfax’s mate?’

We both span towards him. Cordelia stopped the recording.

‘Which mate?’ asked Cordelia, in a rush.

‘Bloke who stayed with him a few months back,’ shrugged Brian. ‘Was out here recording birdsong. Some friend of his back home was here during the war and missed the sound of the local birds and the river and stuff. He was here recording it for him, so Fairfax said.’

‘You met him?’ asked Cordelia, voice rising.

‘Not met. Not really. He was reading headstones in the graveyard and Fairfax was leaning in the gateway to the church. I had a natter with Fairfax and he told me. That his tape recorder, is it? He must have left it for Fairfax.’

Cordy turned to me, eyes full of accusations. Had I been keeping this from her? Did I know?

‘When was this?’ I asked him, trying to stay steady.

‘May sort of time, I reckon,’ he said, without much of a care. ‘Few months anyways.’

‘What was he wearing?’ I asked, and Cordy asked at the same time.

‘Blue suit,’ he shrugged. ‘Had curly hair parted here.’ He pointed to the side of his head. ‘Who’s that he’s arguing with?’

‘We don’t know,’ said Cordy, and her face looked like thunder.

‘Why didn’t you say?’ I asked him. ‘When you found the tooth you must have known it was this man’s.’

‘Tooth?’ demanded Cordy.

I ignored her. Kept staring at Brian and I think he knew he’d proper done it this time. I would have gone for him if he hadn’t spoken up.

‘Aye, it made sense it was his but you never asked me about any French bloke,’ said Brian, squirming. ‘It was just a letter and the tooth.’