Marcia snorted. ‘A night watchman? How do you think we can afford that? I know we got a bonanza grant this year, but we didn’t get that much. And most of it’s gone already on costumes and stuff.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Susan said. She realized this was an inadequate response, but what else was there to say? A constable walked the beat, but he couldn’t spend his whole night in the alley at the back of the community centre. There had been other break-ins, too, and other incidents of vandalism. ‘I’ll make out a report,’ she said, ‘and let you know if we come up with anything.’

‘Thanks a lot.’

‘Don’t be so rude, Marcia.’ James Conran reappeared and put his hand on Marcia’s shoulder. ‘She’s only trying to help.’ He smiled at Susan. ‘Aren’t you?’

Susan nodded. His smile was so infectious she could hardly keep from responding, and the effort to maintain a detached expression made her flush.

Marcia rubbed her face until her plump cheeks shone. I’m sorry, love,’ she said. ‘I know it’s not your fault. It’s just so bloody frustrating.’

‘I know.’ Susan put her notebook back in her handbag. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said.

Before she could turn to leave, they heard footsteps coming along the corridor. Conran looked surprised. ‘There’s nobody else supposed to be coming here, is there?’ he asked Marcia, who shook her head. Then the door creaked open and Susan saw a familiar face peep around. It was Chief Inspector Banks. At first she was relieved to see him. Then she thought, why the hell is he here? Checking up on me? Can’t he trust me to do a simple job properly?

Detective Sergeant Philip Richmond was glad that Veronica Shildon had not wanted to stand over him as he searched the two upper rooms. He never could tolerate the feel of someone looking over his shoulder. Which was one of the reasons he liked working with Banks, who usually left him to get on with the job his own way.

The bedroom smelled of expensive cologne or talcum. As he looked at the large bed with its satiny coral spread, he thought of the two women in there together and the things they did to each other. The images embarrassed him and he got back to work.

Richmond took the bag of presents out of Veronica’s half of the wardrobe and spread them on the bed: a Sheaffer fountain pen and pencil set, a green silk scarf, some Body Shop soaps and shampoos, a scarlet camisole, the latest Booker Prize winner… all pretty ordinary stuff The receipts were dated but none of them gave the time the purchase had been made. Richmond made a list of items and shops so the staff could be questioned.

The dresser drawers contained mostly lingerie. Richmond picked his way through it methodically, but found nothing hidden away, nothing that shouldn’t be there. He moved on to the study.

In addition to the books – none of them inscribed – there was also a roll-top desk in the corner under the window. There was nothing surprising in it: letters to Veronica Shildon, some from her husband, about practical and financial matters; a few bills; Veronica’s address book, mostly empty; a house insurance policy; receipts and guarantees for the oven, the fridge and items of furniture, and that was about all. None of it any use to Richmond.

Just when he was beginning to wonder whether Caroline Hartley had had any possessions at all, he came across a manila envelope with ‘Caroline’ written on the front. Inside were a pressed flower, her birth certificate (which showed she had been born in Harrogate twenty-six years ago), an expired passport with no stamps or visas, and a black and white photograph of a woman he didn’t recognize. She had piercing, intelligent eyes, and her head was slightly tilted to one side. Her medium-length hair was swept back, revealing a straight hairline and ears with tiny lobes. Her lips were pressed tight together, and there was something about the arrogant intensity of her presence that Richmond found disturbing. He wouldn’t have described her as beautiful, but striking, certainly. Across the bottom were the words ‘To Carrie, Love Ruth’, written with a flourish.

Making sure he hadn’t missed anything, Richmond went back downstairs, taking the envelope of Caroline’s possessions with him. Veronica Shildon turned on the small electric fire in the front room when he entered.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I can’t be bothered to light a real Eire now. We use this most of the time anyway. It seems to be warm enough. Some tea?’

‘Yes, please, if it’s no trouble.’

‘It’s already made.’

Richmond sat down, avoiding the cushionless sofa in favour of an armchair. After Veronica had poured, he held out the photograph to her. ‘Who’s this woman?’ he asked. ‘Can you tell me anything about her?’

Veronica glanced at the photograph and shook her head. ‘It’s just someone Caroline used to know in London.’

‘Surely she must have told you something about her.’

‘Caroline didn’t like to talk about her past very much.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps it was painful for her.’

‘In what way?’

‘I told you. I don’t know. I’ve seen the picture before, yes, but I don’t know who it is or where you can find her.’

‘Is it an old girlfriend?’ Richmond felt embarrassed as he asked the question.

‘I should think so, wouldn’t you?’ Veronica said evenly

‘Mind if I take it with me?’

‘Not at all.’

‘Caroline didn’t seem much of a one for possessions,’ Richmond mused. ‘There’s hardly anything of hers but clothes. No letters, nothing.’

‘She liked to travel light, and she had no sentimental regard for the past. Caroline always looked ahead.’

It was a simple statement, but Richmond heard the irony in Veronica Shildon’s voice.

She shrugged. ‘A few of the books are hers. Some of the jewellery. All the non-classical records. But she didn’t go in much for keepsakes.’

Richmond tapped the photograph. ‘Which makes it all the more odd she should have hung on to this. Thank you, Ms Shildon. I’d better be off now.’

‘Aren’t you going to finish your tea?’

‘Best not,’ he said. ‘I’ll have to get back to work or my boss’ll skin me alive. Thanks very much anyway. Richmond could sense her unease. She looked around the room before glancing at him again and nodding.

‘All right, if you must.’

‘Will you be all right?’ he asked. ‘You could always go back to Mrs Cooper’s, if you feel-’

‘I’ll be all right,’ she said. ‘I’m still in a bit of a daze. I can’t believe it’s really happened.’

‘Is there no one you can go to, until you’re feeling better?’

‘There’s my therapist. She says I can call her any time, day or night. I might do that. We’ll see. But do you know the oddest thing?’

Richmond shook his head.

She folded her arms and nodded towards the room in general. ‘I can take all this. The room where it happened. I didn’t think I’d be able to bear it after last night, but it doesn’t bother me in the slightest to be here. It just feels empty. Isn’t that strange? It’s the loneliness, Caroline’s absence, that hurts. I keep expecting her to walk in at any moment.’

Richmond, who could think of no reply, said goodbye and walked out into the snow. He still had about an hour before his lunchtime meeting with Banks in the Queen’s Arms. He could use that time to check on Charles Cooper’s movements the previous evening and perhaps see if he could find out anything about the mysterious Ruth.