‘I did that too,’ mumbled Jenny.

‘Did what?’

Jenny stood up and went to the sideboard drawer. She searched at the back of it, brought out a tatty brown envelope and handed it to Jazz. ‘Here. Take a look.’

Jazz took the contents out of the envelope. In a smaller envelope was a lock of white-gold hair and a black and white photograph. Tears sprang to her eyes, as she studied the blurred outline of Jenny’s baby.

‘Hugh lent me his Box Brownie, so I could take a photo,’ Jenny explained. ‘I had to do it quickly, so it’s awful. I remember crying buckets when Hugh had it developed and gave it to me, because you can hardly see him.’

‘And this is your baby’s hair?’

‘Yes. I snipped it off whilst no one was looking.’

‘Jenny, would you trust me to take this away for a while? Obviously, the more material the geneticist has to cross-reference, the better chance we have of coming up with absolute proof.’

‘Yes, I’m sure you’ll take care of it.’

‘I will. Thank you.’ Jazz slipped the lock of hair into a plastic wallet and put it in her pocket. ‘I’ll be off now. Thank you so much for all your help.’

Jazz left the sitting room and made her way to the front door. Jenny followed her out.

‘You know, the sad thing is I’ve spent all these years wondering what happened to my boy, where he is, who he’s become, whether he would ever try to find me. And now, maybe, my son is a person who grew up under my nose, who I didn’t much like as a boy and have no time for as a man.’ Jenny sighed. ‘Ironic, isn’t it?’

‘Well, let’s just wait and see what the lab—’

‘Oh dear! Oh dearie me!’ Jenny’s hand shot to her mouth suddenly.

‘What is it, Jenny?’ Jazz asked in concern.

‘It’s just clicked why you’re so interested in Sebastian being Corin’s son. It’s because of Charlie and all, isn’t it? You’re thinking that if Sebastian had found out he was Corin’s son, that he might have wanted to do away with Charlie and claim the—’

The doorbell rang.

‘Oh dear, it’s like Piccadilly Circus here this morning,’ Jenny said as she opened the door. ‘Hello, Maddy.’

Jazz came face to face with the Fleat House matron. ‘Good morning,’ she said, then turned back to Jenny. ‘I’ll be off now.’

‘Thanks, Inspector, let me know, won’t you?’ asked Jenny. ‘Good luck.’

The two women watched as Jazz made her way down the small path and disappeared out of sight.

‘Are you coming in, Maddy?’

‘No, I was just on my way back to the school. I had to drop some samples off at the doctor’s in town for one of the boys. We think he might have glandular fever,’ Maddy explained. ‘You all right, my love? You look a bit pale.’

‘Not surprising really, is it, with what’s going on at school.’ Jenny sighed. ‘Hang on a tick. I’ll get my coat and walk with you.’