“If someone got hurt,” said Mandy, “we’re really sorry. The workmen who put up the fence must have left it there. To be honest, neither of us has been out there for ages. And who’d want to go in the ditch?”

Annie glanced at Gerry. “No one,” she said. “Not willingly, at any rate.”

Mandy put her hand to her mouth. “Has something terrible happened? Has someone drowned or something?”

She certainly was jumpy, Annie thought, perhaps afraid she might have the baby right on the spot. Eight and a half months was a bit close for comfort, and she did look fit to burst. “It’s nothing like that,” she said, thinking it was something far, far worse. And Mandy Ketteridge would hear about it soon enough. Perhaps better now she was primed rather than later. “Someone was found dead there. By the roadside. A girl. We think she was murdered.”

Toby squeezed his wife’s hand again. “Oh, my God,” said Mandy, sounding oddly calmer now that it was out. “But . . . I mean . . . what has it to do with us?”

Annie gave her best smile. “Nothing, I hope.”

“I’m afraid we can’t tell you anything,” Toby said.

“I’m not really suggesting you had anything to do with what happened,” Annie explained. “It’s just that this is the nearest farmhouse to the scene and we wondered if either of you might have seen or heard anything.”

“A murder? Near our house?” Mandy sounded incredulous.

“Yes. Is there anything you can tell us?”

“When did it happen?” Mandy asked.

“We don’t know for certain, but we think during last night, or early morning. Say between one and three. Were you at home then?”

“Yes,” said Mandy. “Both of us. With me being so close to my time, Toby doesn’t like to leave me alone. Especially at night.”

“We’re usually in bed before eleven,” said Toby. “We watch the ten o’clock news, then lock up and head for bed. Sometimes Mandy’s there already, this past while, reading. Or munching on a tuna and banana sandwich.”

“Liar,” said Mandy, nudging him gently. “I do not. Well, maybe just the once.”

“And during the night?” Annie went on.

A shadow crossed Mandy’s face, the flicker of a memory. “It was a warm night,” she said. “Humid. Hardly a breath of air. We don’t have a fan, so we leave the bedroom windows open. It helps a bit. And I’ve not been sleeping very well.” She gave a thin smile and patted her belly. “As you can imagine.”

“Did you hear something last night?”