Like most in this village, it’s large – and of considerable value, I wouldn’t mind betting. After getting out, I take the flight of stone steps leading to a heavy front door. When I ring the bell, a woman answers.

‘DS May, Chichester Police.’ I look at her, taking in obviously highlighted hair and a faded tan. ‘I’d like to talk to Julian Calder. Is he home?’

‘I’m his wife – Della.’ An uncertain look crosses her face. ‘Can I ask what this is about?’

‘It’s in relation to the investigation of Hollie Hampton’s murder.’ When she doesn’t move, I add, ‘Is your husband here?’

Della Calder nods. ‘Come in.’

As I step into the large hallway, she closes the door behind me. Judging from the age of the house, the artwork and antique furniture, I’d say my hunch is right about the Calders being wealthy.

‘He’s through here.’ I follow her along a panelled hallway, stopping outside a cracked-open door. Knocking quietly, she pushes the door open. ‘Julian? The police are here.’

Inside, Julian Calder gets up from the chair at his desk. He’s of medium height, overweight with thinning light brown hair.

‘DS May, Chichester Police. I’d like to talk to you about Hollie Hampton, Mr Calder. May I come in?’

‘By all means.’ His manner is expansive, his charm excessive given the reason I’m here. He gestures towards an armchair opposite his desk. ‘Do have a seat, Detective Sergeant. How can I help?’

‘Thank you.’ Sitting down, I take my notebook out of my pocket. ‘Mr Calder, how well did you know Hollie?’

Sitting down again, he frowns slightly. ‘Not that well. I know her father, but that’s the only reason I had any contact with her.’

Nodding, I go on. ‘You haven’t seen anyone suspicious hanging around the village?’

Raising his eyebrows, he looks at me pointedly. ‘I’ve answered these and more questions already, Detective Sergeant.’

He speaks with a level of arrogance that reminds me of Andrew Buckley. ‘I’m sure you have.’ I pause. ‘But a teenage girl is dead, Mr Calder – quite probably murdered. I’m sure you can appreciate we’re only being thorough. I won’t keep you long.’

I watch his eyes shift, but this time, he doesn’t say anything. ‘How well do you know James Hampton?’ I ask.

‘Quite well.’ He glances away. ‘We drink at the same pub.’

‘The one in the village?’ When he nods, I ask him, ‘Did Mr Hampton have any concerns that he mentioned to you in recent months? Or discuss his business interests?’

Calder’s frown deepens. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Detective Sergeant. We talk about many different things – I couldn’t possibly list all of them.’

I keep my face blank as I ask the next question. ‘Did you – or he – ever talk about Philip Mason?’