‘Where does Williams live?’

‘Here…in this village. You can walk to his accommodation from here. You’ll meet his sister, she’s up from London to help him sort out his parents’ estate. So he told me.’

‘What little there is to sort out.’

The two men stood outside the pub, shielding their eyes against the glare of the sun.

‘Left from here,’ said Timmins. ‘Then first left again. Narrow lane. Yellow-fronted cottage.’

‘Yellow!’

‘Don’t know what they call it, “burnt sand”, I suppose, a dull, off-yellow, but it actually seems to fit quite well, since the fields are now yellow with oil seed. Hedgerows and the trees are still green, though, so all isn’t lost.’

The two men shook hands warmly.

Hennessey left his car in the car park of the Dog and Duck and walked to Williams’s rented cottage following Commander Timmins’s directions. He located it easily, the only yellow fronted cottage amid whitewashed cottages, or cottages of naked stone. He conceded Timmins was correct, the colour did work well and was not at all intrusive, possibly because it was swamped by the vast carpet of bright yellow behind it, being a field of oil seed. He walked up to the front door of the building and rapped on the metal knocker, twice, with a deliberate pause between each knock. Knock…knock.

The door was opened quickly, as if the person who opened it had been standing on the other side, immediately so. The person who opened the door was a tall, slender woman with short hair, who looked pale of complexion and a little wide eyed, as if travelling a route she had never before travelled.

She was clearly surprised to see Hennessey, as if she had flung the door wide in the full expectation of greeting a specific person. ‘Oh…’ she said.

‘You were expecting someone else?’

‘I thought it would be my brother. He said he’d try and get home early…or call in over lunch…one or the other. I’m sorry, you are?’

‘Police.’ Hennessey showed the woman his identity card. ‘Chief Inspector Hennessey.’

‘Oh!’

‘You seem bothered?’

‘No…no…I…’ But her face, already pale, had drained of what little colour it had retained. ‘How can I help you?’

‘I’d like to talk to you, if I may.’

‘About?’

‘Your parents.’

‘Have you caught the person who did it?’

‘Getting there, one or two suspects in the frame.’

‘Oh, good…good.’

‘Can I come in?’

‘Sorry…yes.’ The woman stepped aside.

‘You’re Nicola Williams, I presume?’ Hennessey stepped into the cottage, finding that, just as in the Dog and Duck, he had to bow his head to avoid low beams.

‘Yes. Yes, I am.’

The cottage had a cosy but cramped feel. The floor area was taken up with large cardboard packing cases sealed with scarlet masking tape.

‘Moving home?’ asked Hennessey.

‘Well, yes…Please take a seat, you’ll bump your head if you don’t.’

Hennessey lowered himself gently into an armchair. Nicola Williams sat opposite him.

‘Yes…the cottage is proving expensive…I came to be near Rufus and…well, just to be here…I have little to do until needed so I agreed to help Rufus pack his things. He’s moving back onto the base…he doesn’t want to…’

She was nervous, thought Hennessey…avoiding eye contact…false humour…not really meaning that smile…a woman with a secret.

‘Well, I won’t take up too much of your time, I really called to ask you a question I asked of your brother, being, do you know of anyone who’d have reason to murder your parents? The murder, incidentally, had all the hallmarks of passion about it.’

‘No.’

The shake of her head which accompanied her answer was vigorous. Too vigorous for Hennessey’s liking. ‘What about the people under suspicion?’

‘Well, they have motivation, that’s for sure, but we can’t link them solidly enough to charge them. We need more evidence, or we’re looking in the wrong direction. We don’t want to charge the wrong person, that looks bad, especially if it leads to a wrongful conviction. You’ll not want that any more than we do?’

‘No…no.’ She forced a smile.

‘The cottage is proving expensive, you say?’

‘For Rufus, yes.’

‘He could move into your parents’ bungalow, it would save him some money while he’s stationed at HMS Halley anyway.’

‘He can’t do that.’ She was nervous. She seemed guilty. He liked her for that…a woman with a conscience, and not an accomplished liar.

‘Oh?’ Hennessey paused. ‘I know that a tragedy has taken place there, but once we have released it from crime scene status…your brother could move in there.’

‘No…’

‘But the property is now yours, I assume?’

‘No…’ Nicola Williams’s hand went to her head. ‘It wasn’t, my parents have no money. It’s going to be repossessed…we can take the furniture out, that’s all we’ll inherit, a few sticks of furniture…cheap stuff, at that.’

‘Is that something of a surprise for you?’

‘Well, yes…you see, I thought we had pots of money…they sold an enormous house, the Grange. Mummy and Daddy sold it recently and bought the bungalow. They said they couldn’t cope with the large house…the time taken on its upkeep, not the cost, so they sold it and bought the bungalow. It didn’t fit with what Rufus and I knew of Daddy, appearance means a lot to him…but we went along with it…it’s their house, after all, nothing else we could do. But those poky little bedrooms…this entire cottage could fit into my bedroom at the Grange. It was only at the meal at the Mill last Saturday that we found out what the truth was, that our worst fears were confirmed. We both knew that Daddy wouldn’t sell the Grange unless he had to, and he admitted it over the meal. He was broke. But what made it worse is that he was his usual impossible self…he has this ability to laugh at tragedy…it just didn’t reach him, he was full of “easy come, easy go”. It was such a drop for us…such a fall from grace…downward social mobility isn’t the word, or phrase, or whatever…and it didn’t reach him. Mummy was more down to earth…she looked uncomfortable…she said that this would be our last meal at the Mill together…it was, but not the way she meant it. But Daddy just ordered another bottle of very expensive wine. We had an uncle, Rufus and I, we never knew him but he drowned in the bath at his house and left Daddy a fortune…I mean millions of pounds…that was money for our future, to see Mummy and Daddy out and to secure the future for our family for generations. With careful management that was security for the Williamses, yea even unto the tenth generation, it was the foundation of a dynasty. We could have become one of the families of England…not in my lifetime, or even my children’s lifetime, because these things take time…but my grandchildren might find that doors were beginning to open for them. We thought that that was ahead of us but all the while Daddy was…well, I don’t know what he’d done until…but over the meal at the Mill we found out that we’d bellied up. We couldn’t really afford the meal we were buying.’

‘Hard news.’

Nicola Williams nodded. ‘My brother and I, we didn’t want to believe what we suspected, but when the news came it came in a single sentence. “We’re broke.” Mummy said it. Two words that shattered our worlds. And Daddy just smiled and said, “Easy come, easy go, let’s have another bottle of the white.” Daddy may not have cared but we did. We were depending on that money…it makes you lazy…Daddy gave us an allowance so neither Rufus nor myself pushed ourselves in our jobs, we didn’t have to.’

‘So you thought.’

Nicola Williams nodded. ‘So we thought. Rufus especially, he was frightened of poverty…he had a phrase, “fear of drowning in poverty”. He often used it. He said a man needs money like a sailor needs a ship.’

‘To keep afloat?’

‘Yes, that’s how he meant it. A good boat under him at sea and a good bank balance under him on land. We knew Daddy had millions, we thought he was spending the interest…but he was frittering away the principal…all with his devil-may-care attitude.’