After she arrived at work the next morning, Caroline asked Aidan Chilcott to take a closer look at the church. She wanted details on regular churchgoers, people involved on a voluntary basis and anyone who might have had a reason to want Roger Clifton dead. She felt sure the answer lay with Patrick Walsh, but there were still a few dots that needed connecting. Often, the best way to do that was under formal interview. Fortunately, she’d had the foresight to get his number before leaving. She knew there was little chance he’d get in contact with her, and she’d had a feeling she was going to need to get hold of him.

She called the number she’d saved in her mobile and called it from her office phone, which she knew would come up on Walsh’s mobile as an unknown number.

‘Hi, is that Patrick?’ she asked when the call connected.

‘Speaking.’

‘Hi, Patrick. It’s Detective Inspector Caroline Hills here from Rutland Police. We met in the Wheatsheaf on Wednesday night.’

‘Hi. How can I help?’ Walsh replied, barely able to disguise the worry in his voice.

‘I was wondering if you might be able to pop into our office on Station Road today for a quick chat. I just wanted to ask you a few questions.’

‘Questions? What about?’

‘We can go through all that when we meet. Are you free after lunch?’

‘Well, no. I’m out of town today.’

‘Alright. How about tomorrow?’

‘Uh, well I’m helping out at the church fete. Is something the matter?’

Caroline jotted some notes down on the paper in front of her. There was the church connection — right from the horse’s mouth. In trying to make himself sound like a good Christian, Walsh had inadvertently thrown himself in at the deep end.

‘Oh no, nothing that can’t wait a day or two,’ she said. ‘How’s Sunday? I’m in the office in the morning if that helps?’

‘Sunday? I’ll be at church.’

Keep digging, Patrick, Caroline thought to herself. ‘Okay. Monday?’

There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘I might be able to do that. I just need to check a few things. Can I call you back?’

‘You can indeed. The number’s on the business card.’

She knew Walsh wouldn’t call her back. But he didn’t need to. She knew exactly what her next step was going to be.

Shortly after she put the phone down, there was a knock on her door. It was Dexter, and he had a huge, beaming smile on his face.

‘You’re not gonna believe this,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Me and Sara’ve been doing a bit of digging, if you’ll pardon the pun.’

‘What pun?’

‘I’m getting there. So, Rutland Water was created in the early seventies when they built a dam and flooded the valley, right?’