‘Sugar in your tea, my dear?’

‘No, thank you. I’m not like Alec.’

‘Sweet enough, I think.’ Naomi could hear the smile in his voice.

They had been discussing the research Rupert had carried out for his new book.

Marcus picked up the conversation where he had left it before preparing the tea. ‘Rupert usually advertised in the Axholme Herald. Occasionally he would use other local papers, but the Herald has a good circulation and usually served his purpose. They were always helpful, I believe, and once or twice even ran a little piece. Did an interview, that sort of thing.’

‘Did that happen this time?’

‘Oh yes. Rupe’s latest obsession was treasure, you know, and everyone likes stories of buried treasure. Rupe saw it all as a bit of fun. I don’t think he took the stories seriously, but they did all tie in with his writing on other stuff: the supernatural ecology I told you about. Boggarts and bogles and fen lanterns are often associated with treasure.’

Naomi recalled Marcus telling them this. ‘Did they print a picture of him?’ Naomi asked.

‘Why yes. Very flattering it was too. He looked very dapper.’ He opened his desk drawer and rummaged around. ‘There,’ he said, ‘I’ve kept the clipping.’

He slid it across the desk to Alec. ‘You’re right,’ Alec said. ‘Very dapper. He did love his clothes. His waistcoat collection must run to fifty or more.’

‘What does it say?’

‘Not a lot really,’ Alec told her. ‘“Esteemed local author” – he would have loved that – “Rupert Friedman sets off on another journey into our shared past. This time the focus of Rupert’s investigation will be buried treasure, and he would like to invite us all on his hunt.” Essentially it then goes on to appeal for local stories and oral traditions. Then a PO Box address through which they can contact him.’

‘Was that his usual way?’ Naomi asked.

‘One of them,’ Marcus confirmed. ‘When he first started out he was a bit worried about the cranks, but as time went on he worried less, I think.’

‘There’s also an email and what looks like a mobile phone number,’ Alec said. ‘Marcus, I didn’t think Rupe had a mobile. If he had a mobile, why didn’t he call for help?’

‘Because …’ Marcus opened the desk drawer again. ‘It was here, plugged into the charger. He rarely carried it with him, Alec. What he did was programme it to divert to voicemail and any messages he had he’d respond to later.’

‘But he never carried it with him?’ Naomi would, she thought, have been lost without hers these days.

‘He considered them rather vulgar objects,’ Marcus said. ‘He absolutely hated it if he was having lunch with someone and their mobile went off. He always said that if he’d arranged to see someone then that time was theirs and theirs alone and the rest of the world could shove off for an hour. So, no, he could only see the use in having one because it meant he didn’t have to use either his home number or that of the shop. He always said he could never understand why people wanted to be tethered to an electronic dog lead.’

‘I can see his point,’ Alec said. ‘This is probably the longest time I’ve had uninterrupted by work in what … since our holiday last year. Marcus, can I take the phone, I might be able to find out who called him.’

‘You can do that? Well, my boy, take it and welcome. I can barely make a call on the damn things. Rupert took me to buy mine and we asked the lad in the shop for the most basic he had in stock. It still sings and dances and does things I don’t even understand the names of. Did you find his laptop?’

‘No, not yet.’

‘And no idea what they might have been looking for at Fallowfields? That was a terrible business. You must have been terrified, my dear.’

‘Nothing yet. We’re going back later to see if we can work out what they were looking for or if anything was taken,’ Naomi told him.

‘But to be honest,’ Alec continued, ‘we aren’t familiar enough with what was there to know for certain. We wondered if …’

‘If I’d come and take a look? I’d be glad to. I’m just so relieved that someone is finally taking this seriously.’

‘Marcus, did the police give you Rupert’s effects? The clothes he was wearing on the day, that sort of thing?’

‘Yes, yes, they did. Though, I’m sorry, Alec, I’ve not had the heart to look at anything. They’re in the storeroom. I’ll get them in a moment, but I managed also to find this. Some notes Rupert made on his interviewees. Look, you see the one’s he’s crossed out, they were dead ends, but he colour-coded the rest with highlighter pens. Red for a really good lead. Green for someone whose story he was definitely going to use and blue for something he thought worth following up but wasn’t yet convinced was useful.’

‘That’s very precise,’ Naomi commented.

‘That’s the way he was. I hadn’t realized the list was still here. He sat at this desk just a day or two before he … before he died and added his colours. That’s why I recall so vividly. I assumed he’d taken it with him, but here it is, together with some of his notes. I found them in the back of the day book. Or rather, Emma did when she was writing up a sale yesterday.’

‘Day book?’

‘Oh, it’s what we call the little ledger we use to record daily sales.’

‘Can you show me?’

‘Of course.’ Marcus sounded surprised. He left the room and came back a few minutes later. He placed the book on the desk in front of Alec and something else on the floor near Naomi. She could hear the crinkle of heavy paper and knew that inside would be Rupert’s effects from the day he died. Paper allowed the contents to breath, which was important if the fabric was damp or bloody.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘We record what is sold and the details of the buyer so we can send out mailshots, that sort of thing. Most people are happy for us to do that but, of course, some don’t want more junk mail. There’s the sale price and any comments we might deem useful such as here, look, this buyer wanted us to keep an eye out for similar items. Later, Rupert would enter whatever was relevant on a spreadsheet. He could cross-reference with original cost and source and all manner of things.’

Marcus sighed. ‘I don’t frankly know how I will manage.’ He laughed uncertainly. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever thought of a career change?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Alec told him. ‘But I know someone who could probably help out with this side of things. He’s very young, but he’s a real … whiz … with computers.’

‘You’re thinking Patrick,’ Naomi said.

‘I’m thinking Patrick. I’m also thinking we don’t have the evidence to call in a forensic computer expert. Not unless we can really prove foul play.’

‘You think we need it?’

‘I think Rupert was more attached to the twenty-first century and its technology than I ever thought. We can’t find his laptop, but it’s entirely possible he might have recorded something on the shop computer.’ He stood up. ‘Marcus, I won’t take up any more of your time now. We’ll arrange to go out to Fallowfields tomorrow, if that’s all right.’

‘Tomorrow? Why not today? I could be free right now if you like.’

‘No, I want to talk to DS Fine again and call Patrick and take a look at Rupert’s mobile. Marcus, where would the day book normally be kept?’

‘Oh, in the shop, beside the till.’

‘And the notes Rupert left? They were where?’

‘Inside … I’m not sure where. Emma didn’t say.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll ask her on the way out. Look, Marcus, I’m sorry for doubting you,’ Alec said. ‘It’s beginning to look as though Rupe’s death is more complicated than we first thought. And I’m sorry Marcus, but there’s also the possibility that Rupe was involved in something … well something …’

‘Something not quite kosher,’ Marcus finished. ‘Look, Alec, I’d rather know. Rupert was a good friend and I think we all need to know the truth, don’t you?’