‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I did,’ Emily nodded, ‘but of what relevance is that?’

‘If you can find it for me, I’ll show you, shall I?’ Jazz asked, mentally crossing her fingers. ‘Do you know where it is?’

‘Vaguely. I’d have to look.’

Jazz suspected Emily knew exactly where it was. ‘Emily, if you could remember where that book might be, I’d be very grateful.’

Emily hesitated then nodded. ‘All right. Won’t be a tick.’

Jazz watched her leave the room. And prayed that she herself would be as sprightly an octogenarian as Emily one day. Which made her think immediately of her father. She lifted her mobile out of her bag and checked for messages. There was one from Miles, which she’d listen to later, but thankfully, none from the hospital.

Emily arrived triumphantly back in the sitting room. ‘Found it!’ She handed a carefully preserved, blue satin-quilted book to Jazz. ‘Can’t really see how it can help, but take a look anyway.’

‘Thank you.’ Jazz opened the book and began to scan the pages. She knew exactly what she was looking for. Heart in her mouth as she approached the last couple of pages, she gave a small mew of triumph, as there, stuck to the back page, was a small cellophane bag, containing a lock of white-blond hair.

She pointed to it. ‘There. This is something of Corin, Emily. It’ll provide his DNA, which, cross-checked with other samples, will give us ultimate proof.’

‘The miracle of modern technology, eh? Emily looked at Jazz in concern. ‘You think you know the identity of Corin’s child, don’t you?’

‘It’s nothing more than a hunch at present, Emily,’ Jazz said. ‘And I promise you’ll be the first to know if it’s confirmed.’

‘I hardly know what to think.’

‘Please try not to worry about it, Emily. After all, it could be a good thing, couldn’t it?’

‘Perhaps. I’m not sure.’

‘No, but it might be that the Conaught line could continue after all.’

‘In the most extraordinary way, but yes, I suppose you’re right,’ Emily conceded reluctantly.

Jazz watched the old lady’s hands as her fingers weaved nervously in and out of her clasped hands. ‘That’s an interesting insignia on your signet ring.’ Jazz was positive she’d seen the same ring recently, on someone else’s finger.

‘Yes. It dates back to Elizabethan times. The Conaughts are originally descended from the Dudley family – you’ll have heard of the infamous Robert, possible lover of the Virgin Queen.’ She stared down at the signet ring on her little finger. ‘The crest – an acorn – was altered a couple of hundred years ago, to incorporate another insignia – a lark – when my husband’s ancestor made a successful marriage to another great Norfolk family, whose seat was at Holkham.’

‘Really? And only family members would be entitled to wear the ring?’ Jazz probed.

‘Yes. Odd you should mention it, actually, as Corin’s ring was missing when we found the body. Sadly, we all assumed he’d probably pawned it to acquire some more heroin.’