‘Christ. Okay, well that gives him a motive. Means and opportunity, not so much. Bit difficult to kill someone who’s in another country.’

‘Could have hired someone to do it.’

‘Then turn up within a few days to claim the money? Something doesn’t feel right there.’

She opened her office door and called over to Dexter. He stood up and walked towards them.

‘Got a little job for you, Dex. Can you pop over to Alice Clifton’s in Empingham and speak to her please? It looks like Roger’s brother’s back on the scene. We’ve had a call from her, kicking off about some secret meeting between Arthur and a solicitor over him inheriting the company.’

Dexter cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. ‘Right, I see.’

‘I know what you’re thinking. Don’t. These things happen all the time when people die. There’s always someone who crawls out of the woodwork wanting money. It’s rarely a reason for murder.’

‘Could be a starting point, though.’

‘It could. But we’re a small team and we need to make sure we always focus on our strongest line of inquiry. We don’t have the resources to be doing a full-on Sherlock Holmes reconstruction of every player’s movements and motives. We’re police officers. We look at the evidence and work backwards from there.’

As she said this, she realised how hypocritical it could sound. Had she really focused too heavily on Patrick Walsh and the religious aspect? No. Definitely not. The religious connections were clear and there for all to see. And Walsh’s links were numerous. He’d been having his way with Roger Clifton’s wife, was known to have had violent disagreements with Roger and had been acting suspiciously. He also fitted perfectly into the religious connection.

‘Alright,’ Dex said, clearly not in the mood for a disagreement. ‘Anything else?’

Caroline shook her head. ‘No, that’ll be all,’ she muttered.

29

Caroline arrived home that evening feeling as though she’d been hit by a ton of bricks. Mark had forgotten to switch the outside lights on — odd, as he was always the one reminding her to switch them on, then off again in the morning. It was on his to-do list to wire light sensors into them so they’d go off and on automatically with sunrise and sunset, but he hadn’t got round to it yet. Still, it was unlike him to forget to switch them on.

There was a light on in the living room — the distant glow of the sideboard lamp, accentuated with the flickering colours of the television, which played off the walls.