‘You’ll work it out. And I’ll provide you with as much evidence as I can. As soon as we’re through here, I’ll give you a call so you can go through the place from top to bottom.’ He glanced towards the path outside. ‘I see my other Welsh witch has arrived, so I’d better get down to some work.’

Passing Cardiff on her way out, Marie gave her a friendly smile. The woman had settled in well and seemed remarkably unfazed by Rory’s numerous quips. His larger-than-life, camp personality could be off-putting if you didn’t know him.

‘Sorry about the early start, Cardiff. My fault, I’m afraid.’

Cardiff smiled back. ‘To be honest, like, it’s nice to get out of the underground kingdom for a while, even at this hour.’

‘I’ll see you later then.’ Marie stripped off her coveralls, tossed them into a bin and signed out. She checked the time. Perfect. Jackman and the others would be in the office by the time she got back. Before she left, she had a word with Simon Laker. ‘Nice one, Simon. Looks like your hunch was spot on. Now we can get straight on with the investigation, rather than stumbling into it days later when something shows up in the post-mortem. By that time, all trace evidence would have been obliterated. I’ll make sure I mention that to your skipper.’

‘Thanks, Sarge, that’s kind of you.’ Simon beamed. ‘And thanks for believing me. I wasn’t sure at first, but the more I thought about it, the more the whole thing smelled bad.’

‘Yeah, I know that feeling.’

‘But even I didn’t consider premeditated murder. You were shit hot on that.’ He stopped and blushed. ‘Sorry, Sarge, that was rude.’

‘Shit hot’s fine by me, as long as you include the “hot” part. Thank you. I’ve got to get back now. Are you staying on for a bit?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. It feels like my baby.’

Marie patted him on the shoulder. ‘Good work, Simon. I’ll see you later.’

It happened so often. Some seemingly inconsequential job turns out to be more difficult, more dangerous even, that you imagined. She’d left the nick last night thinking she was investigating some harmless intruder and was returning this morning with a murder investigation.

‘I guess that’s policing for you,’ she murmured to herself.

CHAPTER FIVE

Laura Archer returned home from her early morning meeting at Greenborough police station at around ten thirty and let herself into her consulting room. A renovation of part of the old mill, it was an idyllic setting to work from. The building was separate from the main house and provided the perfect environment for her meetings with clients. No one came to Laura’s rooms except by appointment, so she had quite a shock when the doorbell rang.

She opened the door to Professor Sam Page, her old mentor and dear friend. He was smiling broadly. ‘Sam! Come in. I wasn’t expecting to see you today.’ For a second, she wondered if Jackman had rung him and told him she needed his help, but Sam didn’t seem at all concerned.