Twilight fell softly as grey clouds rolled across the landscape. After a day of icy showers, a frosty snap was forecast. At least Sarah’s cottage was toasty warm. It didn’t feel right, being cosy at home when the rest of the team were working around the clock. Progress had been made. She had unearthed CCTV footage of Christian’s car driving to Libby’s house. The same car was captured in the area the night Jahmelia disappeared. But the image was grey and grainy, not giving up the identity of its driver just yet. Sarah knew she should be happy about the evidence, but she still felt like a dog chasing its own tail.

Yvonne seemed determined to keep Sarah out of the investigation. Only now could Sarah see that most people in the office tolerated Yvonne rather than liked her. At least she had one ally at work, and Richie had promised to text her with any big updates regarding the case. Pulling off her Marigolds, Sarah shoved them in the cupboard under the sink. Her house was the cleanest it had been in months. Gone were the pizza boxes and biscuit crumbs, and the wine stain had been scrubbed out of the rug which was now a shade lighter than before. She picked up Sherlock’s food bowl and shook the kibble at the back door. It wasn’t like him to stay out so late.

‘Here, puss puss. Where are you?’ Nothing. Strange. The company of a disgruntled cat was better than no company at all. Her husband’s voice was fading, and not before time. She wondered if Yvonne would make a meal out of Sarah’s link with Blackhall Manor, when the truth came to light. She’d given her enough gossip for now.

She poured herself a gin and tonic before opening up her laptop. Microsoft Word flashed up on the screen. She didn’t remember leaving that open. In fact, she hadn’t typed anything worthy of it in a very long time. As she clicked to shut it down a box appeared asking if she wanted to save the document she’d been working on. What document? she thought, about to click ‘No’, when she paused. Maximising the unsaved document, she began to read.

Dear INCOMPETENT LOSER

It’s been interesting, watching you stumble from one disaster to another. As you amble into your office in your ill-fitting suit and cheap perfume, you could not look any more out of place if you tried. And it’s not as if things improve when you open your mouth to speak. Have you seen the way your colleagues’ eyes roll when you force your opinion on them? You’re there out of pity, you know that, don’t you? Why don’t you have some self-respect and leave?