‘He wanted to be a teacher. He’s been studying English literature so he can teach English in secondary school. He was a bit of a romantic.’ Fiona struggled to speak, her breath shortening as the impact of the situation hit her.

Imogen put her hand on her shoulder to try to impart some kind of empathy.

‘Do you recognise this woman at all?’ Adrian said, showing Fiona a picture of their Jane Doe.

She shook her head.

‘We’re sorry for your loss,’ Imogen said as Fiona looked up at her. What else was there to say?

‘How did it happen?’ Fiona said, wiping her cheeks, clearly unaccustomed to vulnerability.

‘That’s what we’re trying to find out,’ Adrian said. ‘We recovered him from a river last Sunday morning.’

‘What was he doing in the river?’

‘I’m afraid we don’t know that yet,’ Adrian said.

‘Did he drown? He was a really good swimmer. He’s the only family I have … had left,’ she sobbed.

‘We are investigating what happened to Simon. At this point, we don’t believe he died of natural causes. If possible, would you be willing to give us a DNA sample so that we can confirm the person we have is in fact your brother?’

‘Why can’t I see him? Why won’t you answer my questions? Where did you say you found him?’

‘We really don’t know anything yet. The body was recovered from the River Exe in Exeter.’

‘What was he doing there? You don’t think he died of natural causes. So, you think he was murdered?’

‘It seems your brother sustained some serious injuries before he died, probably from a physical assault.’

‘Who would do that to him? Everyone liked Simon; he was a good man. Honestly, you would be hard pushed to find anyone who had a bad word to say against him.’

‘We don’t know who yet, but we will find out. Did your brother have a mobile phone?’ Adrian asked.

‘Of course he did. What kind of question is that? Who doesn’t have a bloody mobile phone these days?’

‘It would have been on him?’ Imogen said.

‘More than likely.’

‘Your brother lived in Higher Sea Lane in Charmouth, correct? Do you have spare keys for his property?’ Adrian said.

‘Yes, I’ll get them for you.’

She stood and walked over to a sideboard, where she opened the drawer and pulled out some keys, which she held in her hands tightly. Imogen could see the woman’s knuckles whiten as she squeezed.

‘I was close with my brother; he came here every week for Sunday dinner. When he didn’t turn up last week, I knew something was wrong. He was secretive and I know there was a lot he never told me about himself, but he wasn’t a bad person. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt him.’