There was a clear footpath from the pub across low-lying fields. It was muddy from melted snow and we picked our way carefully until we came to the clapper bridge—just slabs of granite laid over standing stones across the stream.

“Easy enough to fall off here, if you were unsteady on your pins,” Granddad said.

“But they didn’t think he was drunk,” I said. “And if he fell into the stream, it’s deep enough that he wouldn’t have hit his head on a rock, and the icy water would have sobered him up in a hurry.”

“I suspect the stream is much deeper now than it was a few days ago,” Darcy said. “All that melted snow.”

“That’s true.” I stared down at the swiftly flowing waters, trying to picture a man’s body lying there; trying to spot a rock that could have killed him. We made our way back to the road and went to look at the house of the Misses Ffrench-Finch.

“We do know that Wild Sal was admitted to their kitchen on that night,” I said.

Granddad shook his head. “Do you think she’d know about things like turning on gas taps if she lived wild on the moors? And more to the point, would she have any idea about cross-wiring a switchboard?”

“I suppose that’s true,” I said. “It would take a person with experience of electricity to make sure someone was electrocuted when they plugged in headphones.”

We made our way around the house to the side with Miss Effie’s window, and sure enough there was a very large footprint in the flower bed right beneath the window.

“Looks like a large Wellington boot to me,” Granddad said. “A very large one. Doesn’t that half-witted bloke wear big boots?”

“Willum? Yes, but we know he was here the day before Miss Effie died. He helped them carry in packages and get the decorations down from their attic. He could quite possibly have had to fetch something from the shed.”

“Via a flower bed?” Darcy asked.

“Maybe he wanted to peek in a downstairs window,” I suggested. “He’s very childlike.” I looked over to the shed behind the main house. “Oh, and look. There is a ladder propped against the shed. Perhaps he had to fetch that to put up the Christmas tree.”

Granddad stared at the ladder, then at the wall. “If that was extended, it would reach close to that bedroom window.”

“It would,” Darcy agreed. “Now all we have to do is find out who used it, turned on the gas and came down again without being seen.”

“You’re being sarcastic again,” I said.