‘I’m going to paint.’

Norton raised his eyebrows. ‘Paint? I see. What, professionally, you mean?’

‘God knows. If I hadn’t joined the force, I was going to the Royal College of Art, once I’d got my degree at Cambridge. I had a place on the foundation course.’

‘Really?’ Norton looked surprised. ‘Well, perhaps that’s where you get your eye for detail.’

‘Maybe, but anyway, that’s the plan. I’m going to convert the outhouse into a studio. I’ve got enough left over from the sale of our old apartment to see me through for a while. Plus, there’s a course at UEA I might apply for next year.’

‘Admittedly, this isn’t a bad place to rediscover your creativity,’ agreed Norton.

‘Rediscovering is right, Sir,’ Jazz said vehemently. ‘The force took me over. I’d lost sight of the person I used to be.’

‘Hmm.’ Norton nodded. ‘I understand that, but strikes me you’ve found her again. Your fighting spirit certainly seems to have made a return.’

‘It has.’

‘Look.’ He sighed, serious again. ‘How long are you going to keep on running? I don’t think it was the force that got you down, but a man who was determined to undermine you and your confidence at every turn. I’ve watched you, Jazmine. You thrive on the adrenalin. You’re an exceptional detective. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.’

‘That’s . . . kind of you, Sir.’

‘I deal in facts, not kindness. It just galls me to watch someone of your ability throwing in the towel purely because her marriage didn’t work out. I’ve seen you fighting against male chauvinism day in, day out, over the years. Are you really going to let Patrick win?’

Jazz remained silent and studied the carpet intently.

‘Now, listen,’ he said. ‘Cutting to the chase, something’s come up. What if I said I had a case only a few miles down the road from here?’

‘A case here in Norfolk? How come?’

‘There’s been an incident at the local boarding school just outside Foltesham. A pupil was found dead in his study last Saturday morning. I was called because he’s the son of a lawyer who’s just managed to get a couple of major terrorists extradited to the UK. I’ve been asked to send some people along and double-check there’s no foul play.’

Norton looked into Jazmine’s clear green eyes and registered the small flicker of excitement.

‘By the father?’

‘The call came from the commissioner actually. As you know, the Met wouldn’t usually be involved with something like this but—’

‘What it is to have friends in high places.’ Jazz smiled as she finished the sentence for him.

‘Quite.’

‘So how did the boy die?’

‘He was an epileptic. The paramedics who arrived at the scene said the body presented all the hallmarks of a fit. However, his father rightly insisted on a post-mortem. The coroner contacted me this morning and it looks as if there might be more to it than meets the eye.’