‘Yes, they did. Although not exactly a runner. They owned the house, so it wasn’t a case of taking off without paying the rent. But a friend of mine who lived in Glebe Close at the time said they went in different cars. He was on his own, and Claire took Teddy. Next thing we knew, the house had a “for sale” board outside, and we never heard from them again.’

Jackman took down the approximate month and year of this departure. ‘What did he do for a living? I presume he did work?’

‘Oh yes,’ Hetty said. ‘That was one of the odd things about him. Never out of work, and good at it too. Just dead jealous over his wife and a bit free with his fists, or so it seemed. He was a roofer. Did special jobs, like stately homes and old churches. He was no labourer, certainly. I saw him once up on the spire of St Mary’s, fixing some tiles. Fair turned my stomach to see him swinging around so high up.’

Better and better, thought Jackman. ‘One last thing. If I bring you a photograph on my way home, do you think you might tell me if it’s a likeness of Jordan Spiller?’

‘Of course, Mr J, we ain’t going anywhere! See you later.’

He thanked her and ended the call. ‘Jordan Spiller, and he’s not afraid of heights.’

‘So climbing up to a first-floor window would be a doddle.’ Marie’s smile spread from ear to ear. ‘We have a name! And if your dear Hetty fingers him, we’re out of the starting gate at last.’

Jackman was certain this was the right man, and Hetty would confirm it. ‘Come on, let’s call it a day. I’m going directly to Hetty’s place, and I’ll ring and let you know what she says. We’ll start early tomorrow and throw everything at finding this man.’ He gathered up the papers. ‘I’ll get one of the lads to type all this up tomorrow. You never know, the rest of these seemingly disparate incidents could easily be tied to Spiller as well and tell us why he chose those particular women. Thank you, Annie and Callum!’

‘And Hetty Maynard. Off you go, Jackman. And don’t forget to ring me.’

‘Don’t worry, I will. How nice to see a smile on my best friend’s face again.’

‘I’m back on track now,’ she said. ‘And thank you, Jackman, for getting me through that wobble — and for that illicit hug.’

‘You’re welcome. Any time it’s appropriate.’ He grabbed his damp coat. ‘Speak later.’

* * *

Jackman was soon standing, dripping, on Hetty and Len’s doorstep.

‘Oh my goodness, come on in!’ cried Hetty. ‘You’ll catch your death out there.’