Jazz thought for a moment before she asked her next question. ‘Emily, you’re quite sure that Hugh was fully homosexual? That he wouldn’t have had a liaison with a woman? Like Corin did?’

‘As sure as one can be about anything, yes,’ replied Emily. ‘Hugh loved my son. It was all-consuming. Why do you ask?’

‘Hugh left his entire estate to a housemaster at St Stephen’s. He’d changed his will only a few weeks before. This housemaster and he weren’t particularly close, although they’d worked together for years and Hugh had taught this man as a boy.’ Jazz shrugged. ‘I suppose I was wondering whether there could be some . . . family connection? I have checked with the General Register Office and they’re not officially related . . .’ Jazz left the sentence hanging in mid-air, before she clarified it. ‘I wondered if Hugh could have fathered a child. It would have been around the time that Corin died, approximately forty years or so ago.’

‘No’ – Emily shook her head – ‘Hugh didn’t have a child. But . . . no . . . surely not?’ she whispered to herself.

‘What is it, Emily?’ Jazz asked softly, as she read the confusion on the old lady’s face.

‘No, I’m sure it must be coincidence,’ Emily muttered to herself. ‘Because how on earth could Hugh . . .?’

‘Could he what?’

‘I’m sure I’m wrong, but I suppose there is a chance that . . .’

‘I’m sorry, Emily, you’ve lost me.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear.’

Jazz could see Emily was having a painful inner struggle. She waited patiently, saying nothing.

Finally, Emily looked at Jazz. ‘Inspector, I’ve never told anyone of this, not even my late husband. Do you really think it is relevant to your enquiries?’

‘I don’t know until you tell me,’ Jazz replied honestly. ‘But if you think it might be, then please, go ahead.’

‘Well, you see . . . the thing was . . .’ Emily touched a long, bony finger to her brow. ‘There was a child, Inspector. Corin’s child. He never knew of it. He died before the baby was born. But Hugh did know of it.’

‘I see. And how did you find out about this?’

Emily looked at Jazz again, her eyes troubled. ‘It was Hugh. He came to me, a couple of months after Corin died, and told me about the expectant mother. Apparently, she’d appeared on his doorstep out of the blue, distraught. She was four months pregnant and didn’t know what to do. Even though Hugh had every reason to hate her, he was very kind-hearted, and perhaps he felt in some way responsible for her and the trouble Corin had got her into.’

‘Excuse me if I’m being tactless,’ apologised Jazz, ‘but under the circumstances you’re describing, surely the best thing was for this girl to go off and have a termination?’

Emily smiled. ‘My dear, I don’t wish to pull rank age-wise, but forty years ago, abortion was only just legal, but not if you came from a Catholic background, as this girl did. And Norfolk was still coming out of the Dark Ages.’