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be?’
    Jane said nothing.
    â€˜Did she ever say anything to suggest she was worried about someone or something?’
    â€˜No. But I must say that the day she got back from her cruise, I thought she was very nervous. Indeed, I asked her if something was wrong. She told me to mind my own business. I was really surprised. She’d never before been rude like that and I was only trying to help. Still, later she was friendly and showed me a photo of the ship she was on. It didn’t look like they did when I was young, but not much does.’
    Belinda phoned Glover. ‘I’ve had a chat with Mrs Greene and haven’t learned enough to cover the head of a pin.’
    â€˜Of course not, when all the fairies are standing on it.’
    â€˜Fairies?’
    â€˜And they say the intelligence of the average person hasn’t been numbed by the box. Get back here as quick as you like and do some work.’
    The team of three SOCOs and Glover attracted the brief interest of passing pedestrians as they left the police van and entered Ashcroft Building. Sergeant Cathart brought out a small bunch of skeleton keys which at different times had been taken from arrested housebreakers and at the third attempt unlocked the front door.
    The flat was more tidy than the home of most – if not all – of those present. Dresses, of which there were many, hung in plastic dust bags, shoes were on racks, clothing was carefully folded and in drawers, a couple of magazines on a bedside table were squared with the table. There was a large television set, but no DVD and therefore no disks to collect. There was likewise no laptop, PC or tablet. Every paperback in the two small cupboards was examined page by page for insertions, every piece of paper on which was writing was read. Carpets were raised and floorboards examined for a hiding place. In the bathroom, the lavatory cistern was trawled and every bottle and tin in the medicine cupboard opened. In the kitchen, the refrigerator was emptied, the interior of the electric stove checked by torchlight, china and store cupboards examined.
    Cathart reported the obvious. ‘Nothing, sir.’
    Glover fiddled with some coins in his pocket. ‘She won’t have worked without some form of records, so where in the hell did she keep them?’ He answered his own question. ‘In her working place. Here, she lived a normal life.’ He looked around at the tidy flat, deep in thought. ‘The old girl remarked on her apparent lack of friends, notably males ... Maybe a retired marine major would be of some help.’

NINE
    D espite DC Pascall’s unwillingness – he and religion were strangers – he would have taken his wife to the church fête had he not been ordered to question Major Belamy instead. That Pam had believed his professed inability to drive her to the fête was an excuse, had – and still did – annoy him. As he passed through the gateway and passed the bordering oaks, he had a clear view of Manor House; the probability that the major was likely to be a wealthy man was confirmed.
    He parked level with the end of a well clipped yew hedge. The gravel turning-circle was newly raked. The lightly carved oak front door, under a lead covered canopy, had been striated by time and weather. There was a well polished brass fox’s bell-pull. From inside came the flat sound of a bell. A wonder it didn’t sound ‘Rule Britannia’, he thought sourly.
    The door was opened with accompanying creaks. A man in white coat and striped trousers said, ‘Good morning.’
    Pascall ‘heard’ a question mark in the other’s voice. Was he judged to have come to the wrong door? ‘Is Major Belamy in?’
    â€˜Who is asking?’
    â€˜Detective Constable Pascall.’
    â€˜You wish to speak to Major Belamy?’
    He would have liked to ask if the other thought he might be there to speak to the chief constable.