‘Mrs Ellison … I think it only fair to say, I have heard some rumours about the possible state of your marriage.’ He has sufficient tact to look sheepish. ‘I know a lot of couples have experienced difficulties as a result of the war … the lengthy separation and so on. I have been led to understand you and your husband … might be living separately in some regards.’ His eyes flick meaningfully towards the bed.

Gwen stiffens. Nora. She is willing to lay money on the source of the detective’s rumours.

‘My husband suffers nightmares due to his experiences, inspector. He sleeps out here by choice … he does not want to scare me and more importantly he does not want to scare Tom. If your rumours should emanate from a certain Nora Williams you should know that while she was working here as a Land Girl she propositioned my husband and was sent packing as a result.’

‘I see.’

‘I would think very carefully when it comes to listening to tittle-tattle.’

‘Quite so. But what is not rumour, Mrs Ellison, is that your husband threatened Mr Allingham on the very day he was murdered. Threatened to kill him, indeed. That threat was witnessed – and has been reported to us – by several people.’

Gwen swallows a lump in her throat. ‘Mr Allingham had behaved very foolishly by giving Tom a ride on his motorbike without our knowledge or permission. Tom fell off and Jack was quite rightly furious and so was I. Tom was very lucky not to have been seriously hurt. As I’m sure you’re aware, things get said in the heat of the moment that shouldn’t be taken literally.’ She pauses to catch her breath. ‘Is that why you’ve taken him in? On little more than gossip and misrepresentation?’

‘And an eyewitness who recalls seeing someone matching your husband’s general description in the vicinity of the Hall that night. Someone who appeared to be carrying something – something that could very well have been a shotgun.’

Gwen turns away so he can’t see the colour drain from her face. She suddenly feels icy cold. ‘It couldn’t have been Jack,’ she says, hoping her voice sounds steadier to the Inspector than it does to her. ‘Because he was here, working.’

‘So he claims. Did you actually see him in here, Mrs Ellison?’

‘He doesn’t like me coming in … he doesn’t want me to see what he’s working on … it’s a surprise …’

‘A surprise. So you keep saying.’ He tuts to himself. ‘Well, though I’m loath to do so, I might need to spoil that surprise to confirm Mr Ellison’s story. So, let us see what exactly he might have been up to in here, shall we?’

The Inspector has already spotted the covered workbench. Taking a corner, he lifts the blanket clear. Gwen gasps.

‘Goodness me, that’s certainly rather impressive.’