‘That’s Russ Graves,’ Eckman said. ‘He’s lived on the island all his life and is a bit of a local eccentric. He gets by working odd jobs, buying and selling used goods, stuff like that. When we were looking through John’s emails we found a reply to an ad Russ Graves had run on Gumtree.’

Fisher scribbled the name Russ Graves into his notepad.

‘What was the ad for?’ Kate asked.

‘Bug zappers,’ Eckman said.

‘At this time of year? Why on earth would John need a bug zapper?’

‘Bug zappers,’ Eckman said.

‘How’s that?’

‘Russ Graves had eleven bug zappers for sale. John bought them all.’

‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ Fisher said. ‘And when something doesn’t make sense it probably isn’t true.’

Eckman visibly struggled to hide her frustration. ‘I understand, Mr Keddie but please just let’s stay on track here. I wanted to ask you about the mock hotel room John had set up.’

‘He set it up to make it look like he was Skyping from London,’ Kate said.

‘That’s a lot of trouble to go to, to maintain a lie,’ Eckman said. ‘Why wouldn’t he tell you he was coming to Belport?’

Kate shook her head. She was getting tired of people asking her that question. Every time she heard it, it felt like she knew John less and less. She reached into her pocket and gripped the notebook with John’s drawings. Eckman would probably need to see it. ‘I don’t know. There’s something else. A couple of things, actually. There was a fresh coat of paint on the living room wall. I don’t know what that means, or if it means anything, but—’

‘Yes, I know about the painted wall,’ Eckman said ‘but that’s not really our concern right now, Mrs Keddie. I need to understand this hotel room.’

Kate paused, then let go of the notebook and placed her hands back in her lap.

‘Can we get back to this Graves guy?’ Fisher said. ‘Does he have a record? He has a security camera mounted on his verandah; that’s a red flag right there.’

Eckman took a deep breath. ‘Mr Graves is still being checked and vetted, but he has an alibi and, so far, it looks pretty solid.’

‘Do you have any other suspects?’ Fisher hissed. ‘Any actual evidence? Do you have anything tangible?’

Eckman hesitated. Her tongue slipped in and out of her mouth twice, like a tortoise peeking nervously from its shell. ‘We’re working on it, Mr Keddie. For what it’s worth. I can promise you that.’

‘Right now,’ Fisher said. ‘It’s not worth fucking much.’

‘Fisher, please,’ Kate said.

He shook his head and flipped through his notepad. Kate turned back to Eckman and asked, ‘What’s next?’