It sounded as if there was a bit of a scuffle in this transfer of news, but Melrose assumed there was always a scuffle by way of getting Gerrard. “There’s something I want you to do. Go to Watermeadows … what? Oh, just make up some excuse. I simply want you to get Bub out of the way … no, nothing’s going to explode. Keep Bub out of the library for a couple of hours; keep him out for as long as we’re there … no, we’re not there yet, but we will be in less than an hour and we want to talk to Flora Flood alone. Right.” Melrose was about to hang up into the chatter on the other end and then said, “But if anyone comes in before we get there, call me back on Mr. Jury’s number.” He passed the mobile back to Jury, who gave Gerrard the number and added. “We should be there in another forty, fifty minutes. Okay.”

Tom took the phone, said, “Listen Gerrard, when you get there find out where Flora Flood is and if anyone else is on the premises. Call back.”

In another twenty minutes, Jury’s mobile tweeted. He answered, listened. “Okay, thanks.” He turned to the others. “Flora’s in the kitchen. Cook’s gone to the Waitrose in Northampton. There’s nobody else around. Gerrard’s got Bub up in his room playing some game.” He said to Gerrard, “Just keep him out of the library, which is where we intend to be.”

Tom took out his own mobile and put in a call to Brierly, who wasn’t there. “Get him to call me, Brownell. It’s important.”

Twenty minutes later they were pulling up in front of Watermeadows. In another minute, the door was opened by Flora Flood herself. Seeing the three of them, she looked startled, then made a try at looking pleased, and failing at that, settled for composure. “Come in, though I can’t imagine—”

“You can’t?” said Tom. Then to Jury, “Hold on. It’s Brierly.” He smiled at Flora. “I wonder, could we go into the library?” He turned away for a moment to speak to Brierly. “Watermeadows? No, now. Really. Bye.”

Looking even more uncertain, she ushered them into the library, which was colder than the foyer, its fire as yet unlit.

“What’s this all about? What’s it to do with Inspector Brierly?”

“We’re just waiting for him.”

“Again, why? What’s this about?”

“We needed to have another look at the scene. You know, the crime scene.”

“Why? Has something else happened?”

Tom gave a short laugh. “I’d say quite a lot has happened since the night your husband was shot.”

“It’s cold in here. I’m going to light the fire.” She started to kneel by the grate, but Jury pulled her up. “We can do that.”

“I’m perfectly capable—”

“I know you are.”