The sun shining through the double doors didn’t quite reach to the back of the building. Derek wandered back into the shadows and regarded the second car parked there. Boy, that had taken some getting back here. The Austin Healey was a quirky little number, that was for sure.

He shook his head, recalling the events of that day. Heavy rain, despite it being the middle of June. Glowering clouds. He’d been half frozen waiting. Sam wouldn’t let him stay in the car, said he had to stand and wait where Rupert could see him. Then they’d forced the old man into Sam’s car and brought him back here.

Derek went over, stroked the ageing vehicle. He kind of liked the look of it, quirks and all. It had character.

Sighing, Derek picked up his petrol can and made his way back upstairs to where Sam waited in the partially completed conversion. The owners had once had big ideas, Derek thought. The house wasn’t up to much but it was all mod cons up here. Or would have been had they got around to finishing.

‘Here,’ Sam Kinnear handed him a slip of paper. ‘Stuff I want and things to do, and keep away from that bitch. She’s not part of the plan, Derek, remember that.’

Derek nodded, taking the list from Kinnear’s hand.

‘Fuel in the car,’ he said. ‘Plenty for tomorrow. You still want me along?’

Kinnear scowled. ‘And what sort of a question is that.’

Derek shrugged. ‘Better be off,’ he said. ‘It was the funeral this morning, I went to check the place out like you said. There’s just the two of them there, I reckon. We could have …’

‘Could have what?’

‘I don’t know, gone there while they were at the funeral.’

Kinnear stared hard and Derek shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. ‘Bit too late for that,’ he said. ‘I want him to know. I want the bastard to be afraid. Just like the old man.’

Derek nodded and left as swiftly as he could without actually running. He started his little car and drove away, relief at being away from Kinnear growing as he put the miles between them. He thought about Sharon and he smiled.

‘And she’s not a bitch,’ he told the absent Sam Kinnear.

Six

They took a taxi back to Fallowfields, leaving the car parked where Alec had left it round the back of Marcus’s shop. Wholly Marcus’s shop now, Alec thought.

Alec had not spoken on the return trip, he sat lost in thought with Napoleon beside him on the back seat. Naomi chatted with the driver; her sleek black companion the predictable focus of their conversation.

Back at Fallowfields, Alec helped her from the car and then stood outside the front door as though something was bothering him.

‘Don’t say you’ve forgotten the keys,’ Naomi teased.

‘No, I have them here.’

‘What then?’

‘I think someone’s been here.’

‘Why?’

‘Tyre tracks,’ Alec said. He left her side and she heard him crunch across the gravel.

‘How can you tell in the gravel?’ she asked. ‘They’re probably ours anyway.’

‘No.’ Alec’s voice came from low down so she guessed he was crouched or kneeling.

‘What do you see?’

‘Well, there’s a grass verge, then flower beds each side of the gravel drive. It looks to me like someone turned their car around and the back wheels ran on to the verge and then into the bed. There are deep ruts.’

‘Not there yesterday?’

‘No. I’m sure of that. There’s been no rain here for a while, then we had that torrential downpour early this morning. Not enough to soak the verge; that’s still hard, though you can see where the grass has been crushed because it’s not been mown in, I’d say, several weeks. The flower bed though, that did allow the wet to penetrate and there are tyre tracks and the plants have been crushed. The leaves are still green so …’

‘So someone came here while we were out.’ Naomi thought about it. ‘Someone lost? Needing to turn around?’

‘If they only needed turning space there’s plenty down at the road end of the drive. If someone came here asking for directions, which I think is unlikely, then they were unusually careless turning round. There’s plenty of space for manoeuvre, Nomi. Whoever swung around here did it in a hurry and either didn’t pay attention or didn’t care what they drove over. Plus, I’d say they spun their wheels. There are deep indents in the gravel and it’s been sprayed out on to the verge. That’s what I noticed first.’

‘Odd.’ She reached out and pushed the door. ‘Still locked. What about the side gate?’

She heard Alec crunch across the drive again and shake the wooden gate. ‘Locked,’ he said.

‘I hear a but in your voice.’

‘Not a but, just a maybe. I’m wondering how hard it would be to climb.’

‘Best check inside and round the back.’

Naomi heard him slide the key into the lock. She followed him inside, Napoleon trotting behind her, nuzzling at her hand and clearly puzzled as to what was going on. ‘Anything wrong in here?’

‘Not that I can see.’

She waited in the hall while he checked from room to room. The French doors in the dining room were old fashioned and fastened with a large key that hung from a hook hidden behind the curtain. The back door in the kitchen had a bolt and a deadbolt, she recalled. Window locks on the front windows had been fastened before they went out. Windows at the rear were old and not as secure. Alec had taken her on a tour on their first night, making sure she knew how each door fastened and that she could manage everything for herself.

‘Anything?’ she asked again as he came back into the hall.

‘No, it all looks fine. I don’t know, maybe I’m being a bit paranoid. It could easily have been someone took a wrong turn or something.’

‘You don’t believe that,’ Naomi said.

‘No, I don’t believe that.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know about you but I could use a coffee. I really shouldn’t drink at lunchtime.’

Naomi giggled. ‘Poor old thing. Look, I’ll see if I can manage coffee and you get up to Rupe’s study. I know you’re itching to get in there after what Marcus said.’

‘That obvious am I?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Sure you can manage?’

‘I think so. You put everything next to the kettle on the right-hand counter?’

‘I did. Give me a shout and I’ll carry the tray.’

‘Will do.’ She waited until he had run up the stairs and then she reached out to rest her hand on the wall. Layers of thick paint covered what felt like mouldings but which Alec told her was some kind of embossed paper. She let her hand slide down to find the dado rail. ‘First door, living room. Right. Corner, then kitchen door. Counter. OK. Now, Napoleon, two steps down and then, I think, about two steps to the table? Yes, right.’ She found the nearest chair and hung her bag on the back. ‘Counter to the right. Ah, kettle. Bit of a challenge this, Dog.’

She heard his tail thump against the cupboard door as he wagged. ‘Sink.’ She followed the counter round and felt the cold metal of the draining board beneath her fingers, found the taps and placed her finger close to the spout so she could check that the water was directed into the right place. ‘Hope that’s not too full. Should have thought to bring my coffee maker, Dog. If we’re going to be here long I think we’ll have to buy one. I’m not a big fan of instant.’

Napoleon grunted agreement.

‘Mugs. Bet he didn’t think to leave them out. Second cupboard I think he said. Yes, right. You know, Napoleon, I’d love to be able to see this place. Or maybe I wouldn’t, might be scared off by the decor. I mean, who gloss paints wallpaper, hey?’

She busied herself with the rest of the coffee making, pleased at how well she managed. True, it took her a bit of time to navigate around a strange kitchen, but Alec had taken time and trouble to make sure she was familiar with most of it. It felt good to be able to take control. Another big step.

‘And what do you make of it all?’ she asked the dog. ‘Did Uncle Rupert meet with foul play?’ She chuckled at her own sententious tone. ‘Or is old Marcus allowing his imagination to run away with him?’