Even their ages are disparate, with there being at least half a generation between any two of them.

I make a note to look deeper into the financial side of their lives. If they share a tradesman or professional of some kind, there may be a connecting link to give the investigation a focal point.

This is the type of work Alfonse excels at. It’ll become his task while I busy myself with something more people orientated.

Looking at my scribbled notes, I wonder if either Johnson or Evie Starr kept a diary. It’s a question I never asked and its omission nags at me.

With a half hour to go before I’m due to meet the chief, I call Alfonse asking him to join me there. Having everyone in the same room will save any repeated conversations.

To kill time, I pick up the last pages of Kira’s diary in the hope of finding a clue of some kind. I don’t expect to, but a part of me knows I need to read them just in case.

43

Upon entering the station I’m waved right through to Chief Watson’s office where I find him on the telephone.

I’m not sure who he’s talking to, although it’s a fair bet they’re not enjoying the chief’s words as much as I am.

The handset rattles when he thumps it into the cradle. ‘Sit down, Boulder, and wipe that smirk off your face.’

I obey the first half of the command. ‘That was a great use of language. Most people would have just sworn at him.’

‘I don’t believe in using curse words with my men.’

I get the smirk off my face but can’t remove it from my voice. ‘Sorry, but it’s the first time I’ve heard a detective being described as less use than a syphilitic camel’s rotting carcass.’

He kneads his temples, a grimace turning down the corners of his mouth.

‘He deserved it. I’ve just had Evie Starr’s son in running his mouth about insensitivity. The son said you’d been there too. Said you’d shown way more tact and understanding.’

I give a shrug and a nod of thanks in one movement.

The visit to her family hadn’t been pleasant for anyone, but all through it, I’d known they were suffering way more than I was. It was written on their faces and translatable from their body language.

Interpreting the way he looked at me over the top of his mug as an invitation to speak, I hold up two fingers and pull out my cell.

‘You’re late and the chief’s waiting, where are you?’

‘I’m here.’ I hear Alfonse’s voice in my ear as his head pokes round the chief’s open door.

I scowl my disapproval at his poor timekeeping, but as usual he ignores me.

‘What have you got then?’

The chief’s question is aimed at both of us, but it’s Alfonse who speaks first. ‘I’ve spent most of my day looking at the wives of Kira’s clients in case it was one of them seeking revenge. None of them seemed likely to have gone that far and unless they have secret accounts in false names, none of them have withdrawn large amounts of cash.’

‘I’m guessing you mean to pay a hitman rather than do it themselves.’ The chief’s words are a statement not a question.

‘Yep. There was nothing I could find to suggest any of them had dropped out long enough to travel here. These women have little to do and are constantly updating their Twitter or Facebook feed.’ He gives a self-deprecating shrug. ‘Once I’d identified them, it didn’t take long to rule them out.’

‘Is it possible they have offshore accounts that didn’t show on your searches?’

‘Yes, but it’s not likely. I tapped into their email servers and checked their historical emails to locate their bank statements. Once I’d done that, it was just a case of having a look at their income and expenditure.’

‘I see what you meant about inadmissible.’ The chief shoots me a look then turns back to Alfonse. ‘How do you know their offshore accounts are linked to that particular email and they don’t send their statements in the mail?’

‘Nobody who has a secret offshore account wants their statement put in the mail. Some of them had more than one email, but the software I used to get into their PCs or tablets scans for historical searches on any browser. One of the things it flags up is sign-up pages for email accounts. Therefore, I’m ninety-nine per cent confident I’ve got all their email accounts covered.’

I believe him and can see Chief Watson does too. These days, everyone is tuned in to their cells or tablets as if they are a magical gateway to a better world.

It’s all a nonsense – what’s happening is the erosion of societal manners and consideration for others. Just last week I saw a guy in his late twenties so engrossed with his cell he walked into a busy intersection without noticing. When confronted by angry drivers blaring their horns, he’d flipped them the bird as though they were the ones at fault, before continuing to the nearest sidewalk with his cell still held in front of him.

If just one of those cars hadn’t screeched to a halt, I’d have witnessed Darwinian selection first hand.

‘So you think they should be eliminated from our thoughts?’

‘Yeah. After doing that, I started to look into the other two victim’s finances.’

Score one for Alfonse. ‘I was hoping you would. What did you find?’ I keep my voice matter of fact, not wanting the chief to realise I hadn’t considered it until after it was done.

He addresses the chief rather than me. ‘Paul Johnson lived a pauper’s life only one large bill away from disaster. He had no secret accounts or hidden stash. Unless it was cash stuffed into his mattress.’

The chief shakes his head. ‘We didn’t find anything like that when we searched his house. I saw where his money was going for myself when I looked through his statements. You would too, Boulder. What about, Evie Starr?’

‘She had some money, but not what you’d call a lot. Ten grand and change in a savings account, plus a pension which paid enough to cover living expenses so she could use the savings for luxuries.’

‘Where’s the pension from?’ I’m wondering if a small businessman is cutting off bad payers and trimming outgoings from the firm’s pension fund.

‘One of the oil companies.’

His words nix that particular theory. It is enough of a stretch a local firm was protecting their pension fund, but the global companies involved in the oilfields wouldn’t care about such trivial amounts.

‘Did you find any common purchases? Had they all had building work done by the same firm or something like that?’

I’m pleased the chief and I are on the same wavelength. Not only does it validate my own thoughts, but it’s good to see he is smart and capable of independent thought.

His predecessor had been rooted in the old ways and had all but condoned the lacklustre efforts of Farrage and his buddies. With Victor Watson, Casperton, for the first time in many years, has an intelligent and decent man as chief of police.

Alfonse pulls three sheets of paper from the leather document folder he brought with him. ‘I haven’t had time to cross-reference them yet but these are the last six- month’s-worth of purchases for each of the three victims.’

He hands me a sheet and another to Chief Watson. ‘I’ve put them in alphabetical rather than date order.’

Five minutes later we’ve finished checking the lists. Only four businesses feature on all three: Casperton Auto Repairs, a fuel stop in the centre of town, the 7-Eleven and Sherri’s.

Almost everyone in Casperton uses the 7-Eleven, Sherri’s and the fuel stop. Their inclusion was a given for any local. I use them myself, as does Alfonse.

Johnson had visited Sherri’s just once, and by the time of the transaction and amount paid, I’d guess his daughter was home for the weekend.

Which means the one common business used by each of the three victims was Casperton Autos. This brings us back to Lunk.