Jane asked Boon and the two detectives to search the upstairs bedrooms, while she, Lloyd and the dog handler dealt with the downstairs and crypt.

‘Where’s Bella?’ Jane asked.

‘In her bed in the kitchen. The door is closed, so you don’t need to worry about her disturbing you,’ Durham replied indignantly.

The dog handler opened the bag containing Becky’s rag doll, removed it, and let his German Shepherd have a good sniff.

‘Track, Rumpole, track,’ the handler said, letting the dog off the lead.

‘Rumpole?’ Lloyd remarked.

‘You know, Rumpole of the Bailey,’ the handler said.

Durham snorted. ‘You’re wasting your time and mine.’

Rumpole scurried round the living room sniffing around the furniture with his tail wagging. He suddenly stopped and sniffed in one area, then with his head down and nose to the ground walked towards the entrance door.

‘He’s on to something. Good boy, Rumpole, good boy,’ the handler said.

Rumpole sniffed by the door, spun around, and moved his head from side to side as he padded towards the stairwell to the crypt.

The handler looked pleased. ‘He’s picked up her scent.’

‘How can you tell?’ Lloyd asked.

‘By the way he moves and keeps his nose to the ground.’

Rumpole stopped at the top of the stairwell, took a few sniffs, and started going down the stairs, sniffing each one as he went.

‘Be careful on your way down, the stonework is slippery,’ Jane told the dog handler. She turned to Lloyd. ‘Can you stay with Mr Durham, please?’

‘Don’t worry yourself, I assure you I won’t try and escape,’ Thomas said scornfully.

At the bottom of the stairs Rumpole stopped, had another good sniff, then started to sneeze and whine.

The handler pulled Rumpole away. ‘That’s how he reacts to cleaning agents like bleach.’

Jane took a few sniffs but couldn’t smell anything. The handler got down on his knees and sniffed the floor.

‘There’s a very faint smell of bleach if you get close enough,’ he said.

‘Could you please come downstairs, Mr Durham,’ Jane shouted up.

‘She was drinking my best ’61 Médoc a few days ago. Now look how she repays me,’ he muttered.

‘DS Tennison is just doing her job,’ Lloyd said.

‘She did a good job on my son, that’s for sure,’ Thomas retorted, starting down the stairs.

‘Rumpole’s not reacted anywhere else down here. The trail ends at the bottom of the stairs,’ the handler said, putting him on the lead.

‘How sure can you be it was Becky he was following?’ Jane asked.

‘Obviously I can’t say one hundred per cent it’s her. But I know my dog and he’s never let me down. Something happened down here that necessitated the use of bleach. I’m going to see how he tracks from the hallway to the outside. I’ll also check the bin areas.’