Dead Woman’s Shoes

News of the Costello’s warbler was spreading fast. When Lexy awoke from a fitful sleep and pulled open her tattered curtains she discovered a small army of avian anoraks assembled in her garden.

At least it was a quiet invasion; in fact any sound at all, apart from the hallowed warbling, was heavily frowned upon.

Acutely aware of this, Lexy took Kinky along to the heath for his morning constitutional, all the while thinking about the methodical way Milo had pulled together the strands of the case the previous evening.

Why was he so keen to solve this murder? He was on convalescent leave because of some unexplained accident, but he wasn’t exactly taking it easy. He seemed determined to do his job, whether the police force wanted him to or not. And he was working alongside Lexy whether she wanted him to or not. But only in the matter of Avril Todd’s murder. He wasn’t going to get near her other assignment. That one was worth money. There was a substantial reward for the return of Princess Noo-Noo.

That afternoon, Lexy and Kinky went into Clopwolde, Lexy sporting the nearly new collection she’d bought the previous day. First she was going to do some sleuthing, just to fulfil her obligations. Then she was going to call into every pub and shop in the village to look for a sensible job.

When she reached the newsagent, Lexy checked the rack outside. The news of Avril’s death hadn’t made the front pages of the nationals, but a couple of them ran the story inside. The local papers wouldn’t be out until later in the week. Lexy quickly read through the accounts. As Milo had confirmed, the only mention of her was as a passer-by with a dog. She heaved a sigh of relief.

Then she remembered that her next port of call was the vet’s. “This is going to be painful,” she said to Kinky, as they turned into the alley where the shabby surgery resided. He was all for giving it a miss, but Lexy was resolute.

Hope was behind the reception desk, looking as if the slightest noise would shatter her into a thousand pieces. There was no one else in the waiting area. As soon as she saw Lexy she came out from behind the desk.

“Come in here – we can talk.” She led Lexy into Guy’s surgery and Lexy put Kinky on to the examination bench, where he sat apprehensively.

“Are you going to go to the police?” Hope was on the edge of tears.

“You remember everything, then?”

“I know I told you about Guy. I wish I hadn’t.”

Lexy wished she hadn’t, too.

“Look, I’m... just going to pretend I didn’t hear anything.” Lexy made herself meet Hope’s eyes. “It’s your own business. If what you say is true, Guy did what he did to save your mother. If there’s any more to it, I guess your conscience will tell you what to do. Mine does. It’s on at me all the time. Nag, nag...”

Hope gave a small wail and unexpectedly put her arms around Lexy. She felt as frail as she looked. It was like hugging balsawood. “You and your brother need to move on,” Lexy told her.

“I know.” Hope pulled some tissues from a box. “But the letter writer...”

“I told you – you won’t be getting any more.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me – I know.”

Lexy and Kinky left thankfully, albeit for different reasons. The visit had had a twofold purpose: to get that business with Hope out of the way and also to ensure that the receptionist was at the surgery, rather than at home, because that was where Lexy was going next.

She left Kinky tied to a railing out of sight around the corner, jammed her old baseball cap firmly over her cropped hair, and walked up the steps to Hope’s neighbours at number two, carrying a large plastic bin bag.

A buxom thirty-something woman opened the door and gave Lexy the hostile but resigned glance that people usually reserve for door-to-door salespersons. At least she didn’t recognise her from the evening before last.

“Hello. I’m collecting old clothing for charity,” Lexy said smoothly.

The woman visibly relaxed. “I’ll see what we’ve got.”

She turned and gave a call. “Vince – they’re collecting clothes for charity. Where’s that old suit of yours?”

“Back of my wardrobe. I’ll get it.”

“You should have given us some notice – I might have been able to find some more bits and bobs. I seem to have grown out of everything just lately.”

“I usually call Friday evenings,” Lexy lied. “But there didn’t seem to be anyone here last Friday. Or next door.”

“We were here,” said the woman at once. “All evening. We hardly ever go out on Fridays now. My husband likes to cook instead – thinks he’s Jamie Oliver.”

“Sounds all right to me. How about next door?” Lexy pointed to Hope’s house.

“Let’s see. She went out, I think. About half past seven it was. She had a big bag with her so she was probably going to the surgery. She’s the vet’s receptionist,” she added.

“Here we are.” A chubby man appeared toting a shiny grey suit.

“Oh, brilliant. Thanks so much.”

“Hope went out Friday night, didn’t she, Vince?”

“Was that the night I made seared carpaccio of beef with parsnip mash? Followed by strawberry vanilla cream tart?”

His wife nodded, a tad ruefully.

“Yes, in that case, and I remember the crash at midnight when she got back.” They gave each other a significant look.

Lexy scooted off with the awful suit and collected Kinky. She retraced her steps with a horribly lucid vision of Hope Ellenger out and about on the night of the murder, carrying a large bag in which a weapon might have been concealed.

If Hope had driven straight to Nudging, it would have taken her about fifteen minutes. Seven forty-five. She would have had to hide her car a couple of miles away from the scene of the intended crime, as her getaway plan would have involved using Avril’s Volvo, and walk to the field. At a brisk pace, two miles would take about half an hour. She would have just about been in place before Avril arrived around twenty past eight, and...

Lexy drew to a sudden halt, remembering Kitty’s words to Hope in the café the other day.

How are the driving lessons going, dear?

Hope was only on her third lesson. Lexy nodded grimly. So that was her off the prime suspect list. But perhaps not off the hook altogether.

Lexy made her way to Windmill Hill. She needed to nip up to number fourteen without being seen by Roderick Todd, the police or the old dear who thought Kinky’s name was Keith.

Apologising profusely to Kinky, she left him tied up to a lamp-post and jogged up the road, still carrying the large plastic bag, which now contained the shiny grey suit. Number fourteen was almost opposite the Todds’ house. Lexy slunk up the garden path and rang the bell.

A spry-looking woman with a grey bun answered. Budgerigar-type squawks emanated loudly from the interior of the house.

“Hello – just collecting some clothes for charity,” Lexy smiled.

“What charity?” the woman demanded.

“RSPCA.”

It was the right answer.

“Why didn’t you say?” She bustled off. More whistles and squawks. “Now, now, Murgatroyd, don’t be rude.”

Lexy checked swiftly behind her. The Todds’ house looked drawn and quiet, as if it were itself in mourning. Horace the cat was sitting solemnly in the front window.

“It’s not much, I’m afraid.” The woman with the bun had returned. Was she having a laugh? Lexy was going to need a wheelbarrow. She packed the pile of shapeless woollen items into the plastic bag on top of the suit, murmuring appropriate words of thanks; then she said, “Oh – do you have the right time please? My watch gave up the ghost earlier.”

“Wait a moment.”

The woman disappeared into her living room.

“Ten to three, exactly,” she said, with a brief but smug look at the house next door. “I always make sure my carriage clock is set to Greenwich Mean Time. Unlike some people.”

Lexy returned to Kinky, staggering under the weight of the clothing. “Looks like number twelve and number fourteen are going to have to agree to differ on the time that Avril came home on Friday,” she told him. “But at least I tried.”

After a visit to Oxfam to donate clothing, Lexy returned to Otter’s End. She needed to give a bit of thought to her other investigative job – the one she would be tackling that evening. If she pulled it off, she was going to make several people very happy. The Caradocs, Hope and Guy Ellenger, and anyone else who cared about the fate of Princess Noo-Noo. It would mark her first and – she reminded herself – last success as a private sleuth.

It would also make certain other people very angry and upset. She’d do well to bear that in mind.

At seven o’clock, Lexy collected her camera, a penknife, and a fleece. Just in case she was in for another late one. Her hand was on the door handle, ready to leave, when a knock made her jump back.

She peered through the net curtain, then gave a grin and pulled the door open.

“Hello, lovie,” said Edward. “Who are those odd people crouching at the bottom of your garden? I trust they’re not doing something unsavoury.”

“Long story,” said Lexy.

“Do tell later. Look, I’ve bought you a little treat. Proper coffee.” He handed Lexy a paper carrier with the name of a posh grocer on it. “And some choccies to go with.”

“Wow – that’s very kind. Is it my birthday?” asked Lexy.

“If you want it to be. Actually, darling – this is an excuse for me to have coffee and chocolates, and to talk about you know what. I had two policemen at my place yesterday, you know. Very attractive ones, too, in full uniform – it was quite thrilling.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “And on my way out last night, I just happened to notice a lean, tall man driving down from your place. Could he have been a plain-clothes policeman, perchance? He left very late – you must have had a good long interrogation.”

Did nothing pass him by?

“Did you tell them anything you shouldn’t have?” Lexy asked, checking her watch surreptitiously.

“Of course not, sweetie. It’s all over the papers today, anyway.”

“Listen, Edward, believe it or not, I’m just on my way out,” Lexy said. “I have to go back to the police station, actually. It’s a real drag.” She really was going to have to stop lying.

“Oh – let him wait ten minutes.” Edward waltzed into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

Lexy checked her watch again and winced.

“OK – just a very quick one,” she said.

“Story of my life,” he trilled. “Look – violet and rose creams – yummy.”

Lexy tried to smile.

Edward lifted a small cafetière out of the bag, and opened a sachet of Javan coffee. “So, do you have any more juicy details? Tell me all.”

Lexy screwed up her face. “Not really. They think Avril had taken some sort of drug before going out.”

“Oh, please tell me it was ecstasy,” begged Edward. “The scandal would be endless.”

“Sorry to disappoint – it was just a sedative.” Again, Lexy wondered how Avril could have driven as well as she did under the influence of a tranquillising drug. She must have had a cast iron gut, to match her features.

“She was probably depressed, poor cow.”

Edward pushed the plunger into the cafetière and poured the coffee into two dinky cups which he also pulled out of the carrier.

“Milk in the fridge, is it?”

“There’s some soya milk, but it curdles in coffee,” said Lexy.

“Nice. Well, black it is then.”

He passed it over to her.

“Ta,” said Lexy. She threw back the hot liquid as quickly as possible.

“My word, you are in a hurry.” Edward watched her replace the cup. “Violet or rose?”

“What? Oh – rose, thanks.”

She took the proffered confection, picked off the pink candied top and smiled bravely at Edward as she popped it into her mouth.

“Have another one, lovie, you need fattening up. Although, I deduce from the foil containers in your kitchen that someone’s been treating herself to a takeaway.”

Lexy gave him a weak smile. “Fragrant Garden.”

“Best Thai restaurant in Clopwolde,” Edward proclaimed.

“It’s the only Thai restaurant in Clopwolde, isn’t it?” said Lexy.

“Well – yes.” He pushed his chair back. “I can see that I’m not going to get anything out of you until you’ve had another tête-à-tête with the dashing detective.”

“He’s not exactly dashing,” said Lexy. “More grim. Anyway, he’s not on this case.” Although you wouldn’t believe that if you knew him.

“Ha – I was right! Your long, lean visitor is one of our boys in blue.”

Lexy cast her eyes up.

“Now – remember to pop into mine on your way back tonight,” said Edward. I simply have to know what’s going on. TTFN.” He blew her a kiss, let himself out, and gave the bird-watchers, who were just packing up, a coy wave for good measure. “Now that’s what I call a telephoto lens, lovie.”

Lexy waited until Edward was out of sight, then rounded up Kinky, who looked alarmed to be going out in the Panda again.

She drove straight to a garage on the outskirts of Clopwolde, put a fiver’s worth of petrol in the car, bought a newspaper, drove back into the village and located Bartholomew Lane. Thankfully it was short, with only a dozen twee red-brick houses. Lexy occupied a parking space conveniently vacated by a Land Rover about halfway down.

She slouched down in her seat and shook out the newspaper. Now all she could do was wait, and hope her instincts were correct.

The minutes ticked past. Eight-thirty came and went. A number of cars drove past – the lane was obviously a rat-run of some sort. But it wasn’t passing cars Lexy was interested in. Methodically she scanned the houses, watching for movement at the front doors.

Twenty to nine. Had she missed her chance? Lexy began to fidget. She was going to have to go back and call Milo. Tell him what she knew. And he wouldn’t be pleased she’d been holding out on him.

Quarter to nine. Right. That was that. Over to the boys in blue. Or rather to the suspended policeman who wouldn’t give up. Lexy chucked the newspaper into the back of the car, pushed herself up, and started the engine.

Then she saw her. Running down the drive of number nine, checking her watch, dressed in jeans and a fetching cotton top. She jumped into a yellow Mini, which, as luck would have it, was facing the same way as Lexy’s Panda. All Lexy had to do was slide the Panda into gear and follow Sheri-Anne Davis.

Ten minutes later they were deep in the countryside. Sheri-Anne had turned down a series of increasingly small lanes that snaked through parched-looking heathland ringed with dark conifer woods. Lexy followed at a distance, only just keeping Sheri-Anne in sight. Eventually the Mini turned into a farm entrance, and bumped up a track. Lexy didn’t dare to follow. She parked the Panda just off the lane in a small copse and, leaving Kinky to guard it – at least that’s what she told him – she darted back to the gateway. Dusk was beginning to fall, and she kept to the shadow of a hedge, camera at the ready. It felt horribly reminiscent of the Friday night just gone, moments before she had heard Avril’s dying scream. She rounded a corner, and saw two cars parked next to an old barn in a dingy yard garnished with stacks of used tyres, rusting car parts and rotting bales of hay. A dilapidated farmhouse stood nearby, clearly uninhabited.

Lexy slipped behind a tree and looked at the cars. One was Sheri-Anne’s yellow Mini. The other was one she had seen very recently.

She crept nearer to the barn and made her way around to the back, climbing up a precipitous mound of rubble to reach a crack in the wooden slats through which light filtered from inside. A familiar sound made Lexy grin and nod. She put an eye to the hole.

Gotcha...

She watched for a moment, straightened up and took a step backwards – into nothing.

The pile of rubble had a sheer edge, over which Lexy had toppled. She dropped down several feet, with an involuntary gasp, and fell back hard against the unyielding trunk of an elder tree, her head striking it with a dull thud.

A thin trickle of blood began to seep slowly into the earth.

When Lexy awoke all was whiteness. Must be heaven, but why did it hurt so much? Clouds were meant to be soft and fluffy. Perhaps she was lying on her harp.

A smooth, pink face loomed over her, the mouth open.

With a gasp, Lexy tried to push herself up.

Gentle pressure held her down.

A pair of ice-grey eyes swam into view. Definitely not heaven, then.

“Venus de Milo.” Her voice was croaky.

The lips twitched. “That’s me.”

“What happened?”

“You’re in hospital.”

“Yeah – I already worked that one out.” Forming the words was a real effort, like she was drunk. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’ve got concussion. Not badly. You’ve obviously got a skull of granite.”

Lexy grimaced, put a tentative hand upwards. She felt a bandage that seemed to encompass most of her head.

“How long have I been here?”

“Since last night. You’ve been sleeping for hours. You must have been exhausted.”

Since last night? Lexy searched his face. “Was I in an accident?”

“Sort of. You fell and hit your head.”

“Where?”

He frowned. “Round the back of an old barn. At a farm out on Mellowsham Heath. Back end of nowhere.”

Lexy gazed at him. “What was I doing out there?”

He looked carefully across to the open door, then bent towards her. “Don’t you remember? You were following Sheri-Anne Davis.”

Lexy squinted. “Yellow Mini?”

“That’s the one. Remember following her cross country through the heath? Big, dark conifer plantation in the distance?”

She screwed up her face. “I kind of remember following her car along some twisty lanes. Were you bloody following me again?”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“Didn’t trust you. I knew you were holding something back.”

“Holding something back from what?”

He gave an irritated exclamation. “Our investigation. Avril Todd’s murder. You remember that, I hope?”

Lexy stared at him.

“You do, don’t you?” He was starting to look alarmed.

She grinned. “Yeah. I remember.”

He gave her a weary look.

“But if you were following me last night,” Lexy said slowly, “didn’t you see anything?”

“I missed all the action – again. Lost you about a mile from the farm. I had to drive around for at least ten minutes trying to find you. It was just a lucky guess I checked up on the place, and saw your car parked in that copse of trees. I didn’t see Sheri-Anne’s car – she must have gone by the time I got there.”

“Not very good at following people, are you?”

His eyes narrowed. “I am normally. Trying to keep up with you is proving unusually difficult.”

Lexy suddenly winced. “Ah, my head – it’s killing me.”

Milo pressed a button above Lexy’s headboard and almost immediately a dark-skinned male nurse appeared in the doorway of the little side ward. “I see you’ve woken her up.”

“No – she came round of her own accord,” he replied coolly.

“Well, you’re not to start making her answer a lot of questions.”

“Naturally.”

“Yeah, right. You’re a policeman. That’s what you lot do, ask questions.”

“Speaking of questions, has anybody got a painkiller?” groaned Lexy.

The nurse studied the notes clipped to the bottom of her bed. “I’ll go and get you some paracetamol.” He whisked away.

“I was thinking more elephant tranquilliser. Did you actually tell him you were a policeman?”

“Yes.”

“You just left out the bit about being suspended?”

“Your memory’s not that bad, then.”

“It is.” She made a face. “I don’t remember getting out of the car at all, but I must have done if you found me by this barn. One moment I was driving along with Kinky and then...” She broke off, staring at the detective in sudden horror.

“Kinky – where is he?” She struggled to sit up.

He held her down. “It’s OK. Take it easy. He was in your car. He tried to kill me when I opened it, but when he saw the state of you he consented to come to the hospital with us in my car.”

“Didn’t you call an ambulance?”

Milo shook his head. “I brought you here myself. Quicker.”

“Where’s Kinky now? At your place?”

“No. I took him down to the vet’s. Guy Ellenger. He said he’d look after him.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.” An image swam into Lexy’s mind of Guy Ellenger’s face, with his melting toffee eyes and perfect teeth. Setting up an alibi for himself on the phone. Pushing his dad down the stairs. Lexy felt her heart give a sudden violent pump. She saw herself creeping up the path towards the barn. There had been two cars.

“Here’s the doctor.” Milo withdrew, moving to the window.

Lexy gave an exclamation of frustration.

A sleek, middle-aged consultant sporting an inappropriately jolly bow-tie breezed in self-importantly, followed by a gaggle of medical students who grouped themselves tightly around her bed.

The consultant plucked her notes from the bottom of the bed and scanned them rapidly.

“Ah, yes – concussion. Any memory loss?”

“Yeah,” said Lexy. “I can’t remember what I did yesterday evening.”

“Neither can I,” mouthed one of the male medical students. Lexy smiled faintly.

“It’s all right – it will come back,” the consultant predicted. “Feeling OK otherwise?”

“Just a bit of a headache.” Like World War II was a bit of a squabble.

He beamed. “Very good, then.” He turned to leave.

“Er... when can I go?”

“Tomorrow,” he threw over his shoulder, “if you’re sensible today and do as the nurses tell you.”

“Tomorrow?” Lexy turned back in anguish to Milo when the throng had left. “I can’t wait until tomorrow. I’ve got to get out of here today.”

“What’s the hurry? Remembered something, have you?”

She couldn’t meet Milo’s eyes. She didn’t remember the make or colour of the other car that had been at the barn. But she remembered why she was following Sheri-Anne. And she remembered what she’d seen in the barn – exactly what she’d expected.

“It’s just that I need to get Kinky.”

“He’s with a vet. He’ll be all right.”

Guy Ellenger’s face rippled into view again. Lexy tried to push herself up. Milo held her arm down, regarding her with his usual impenetrable expression.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ve got quite a dent in your head, you know.”

Lexy eyed him. “So... er... you found me unconscious behind this barn?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Guess you saved my life?”

He nodded.

“Thanks,” she said gruffly.

They sat in silence for a moment, Milo studying a poster on the wall, Lexy studying his profile.

“Do you ever smile?” she asked.

He regarded her impassively. “I smiled when you woke up.”

“I missed it. Do it again.”

“I’m out of practice.”

“Why?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do. I want to know why you act so weird.”

“Weird?”

“Look.” Lexy gritted her teeth against the pain in her head. “I just need to know one thing in particular, OK?”

He nodded warily. “OK.”

“Do you recognise me?”

“Eh?”

“You heard. Do you recognise me?”

“You’re not that badly hurt.”

Lexy made a gesture of impatience. “I mean from the show.”

“The show?”

She rolled her eyes, even though it hurt. “I knew you recognised me.” She was aware of her voice gaining volume. “Right from the start, when we met at the vet’s.”

The policeman went very still. They stared at one another.

His voice suddenly cut in, quiet and conversational. “My wife died six months ago. She was a police sergeant, killed on duty. I was there. I tried to resuscitate her but I couldn’t. When I saw you at the vet’s on Thursday, just for a split second I thought she’d come back. That’s all. Don’t feel sorry for me,” he went on quickly, seeing the change in Lexy’s expression. “I’m getting over it. Although we still haven’t tracked down the killer. But I’m working on that.”

They were silent for a while. Lexy lay back, stunned. Far from recognising a girl who briefly used to provide the eye candy on an early evening DIY show, Milo thought his dead wife had come back. The wife he’d tried to resuscitate. No wonder he tried so hard to bring Avril Todd back to life. Lexy suddenly found herself wondering if Milo had given her mouth-to-mouth outside the barn. She felt a warm flush spread across her cheeks.

“Are you all right?” Milo enquired.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She tried to push herself up again. A nurse came in, told her to lie still, took her blood pressure and hurried off to the next patient.

“Do I really look like your wife?” Lexy asked.

“The more I see of you,” Milo said, soberly, “the less you look like her. Especially in the turban. Anyway, what show?”

“Doesn’t matter. I was barking up the wrong tree.” That was for sure.

“You have a visitor.” The nurse’s rich Caribbean voice cut in from the doorway. “I told him five minutes only.”

Lexy focused dazedly on a huge bunch of pink flowers flouncing towards her, clutched by a well-manicured hand with a gold and diamond ring on the pinkie.

“You poor little lamb! I ran into Hope in the village – not literally of course – and she said Guy had told her you were in hospital.”

“Hello, Edward,” said Lexy weakly. “This is DI Milo, from Lowestoft CID.” Well, in a manner of speaking.

“Edward de Glenville,” said Edward, thrusting his hand at Milo. He turned to Lexy. “Is this your exceedingly grim policeman? He looks all right to me.”

Lexy tried not to look at Milo, who had stiffened.

“Well – what happened?” Edward demanded. “You weren’t whacked over the head by Avril’s phantom killer, were you?”

“No, I fell and got concussion,” Lexy said.

“What? In Clopwolde?” Edward looked so outraged that Lexy almost laughed. “That bloody council really need to get their act together about the high street paving stones. Nearly went flying myself the other day.”

He groped in a large leather satchel. “I brought you some highbrow reading matter.” He stacked them on the bed. A copy each of Hello andOK!, a pile of lurid fashion magazines and a Daily Mail.

He smiled at DI Milo. “I always get the Daily Mail, just to annoy them.”

“Annoy who?”

“The general readership, sweetcakes.”

Lexy had to turn away to hide her broadening smile.

“I’m in the process of asking Ms Lomax a few questions,” said DI Milo levelly.

“Don’t worry. I can see I’m not wanted.” Edward gave Lexy an outrageously suggestive look. “Just wanted to check she was all right. Bye-bye for now, sweetie. Be brave.”

“Thanks for the flowers and... Edward – you couldn’t do me a favour?”

“Just name it.”

“Check on Kinky for me? He’s at the vet’s house. Kittiwake. It’s in ...”

“Gorse Rise. Next to the Caradocs’ vision in white,” Edward finished for her. “I’ll do it as soon as I can. When are they letting you out?”

“Tomorrow,” said Lexy.

“When you get your discharge papers I want you to call me up and I’ll come and get you.” He delved in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, scribbling on it. Here’s the number.”

“Thanks. I owe you one. Two.”

“Forget it. See you on the morrow.” He leaned over and dropped a kiss on Lexy’s cheek, then turned to DI Milo. “Be gentle with her, Mr Policeman.”

Lexy gave him a wilted wave, and turned back to Milo.

“Sorry about...”

“Is he the one who was getting poison pen letters from Avril Todd?” Milo gazed after Edward. “The one who’s father died in a fall?”

“That’s him. Only one Edward de Glenville in Clopwolde.” Lexy glanced wryly at the huge bouquet. “He did have an alibi for Friday night, in case you forgot,” she added, seeing Milo’s humourless countenance. “He was in Lowestoft police station.”

He nodded. “While we’re on the subject, did you have any luck checking alibis before this... incident at the barn? Roderick Todd’s checked out – he was definitely in a hotel in Lincoln at the time of the murder.”

“Oh, yes – I was going to call you,” Lexy said. “I found out from Hope Ellenger’s neighbours that she went out on Friday evening at half-seven, and she didn’t come back until midnight.”

Milo sat up. “That’s very interesting. So she wasn’t home alone, like she said?” He pulled out a notebook – not his police one, Lexy noticed.

She shook her head. “But if she was our murderer, she’d have needed to get over to the field, and in position, as it were, in pretty good time.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t drive. She only just started learning.”

“Ah.”

“I also looked into that matter of the story about the time difference noticed by the old ducks in Avril’s road,” Lexy went on. “You know, when one saw her coming up the hill at seven-fifteen, and the other at seven-thirty.

“And?”

“It remains a mystery. The second woman was just as adamant as the first that her clock was always right.”

“Told you.” He checked his watch, stood up. “Right, I’m off.”

Lexy turned her head painfully to watch him go. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take Floppy for another visit to the vet’s. See if I can get talking to Ms Ellenger.” He slipped something out of his pocket and indicated the telephone on the bedside cabinet next to her. “I got you a phone card, in case you want to call anyone. Here’s my number. Oh – and here are your car keys. I left it parked outside your place. I’ll see you later. Try to get some rest.”

The door snapped closed before Lexy could say ‘thanks’.

She sank back into her pillow, trying to think above the dull throb of pain in her head. The wall clock said eleven-fifteen. If she was going to follow up this business at the barn, she needed to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. She shifted, tried to push herself up, then lay down again quickly as the door opened. A nurse came in and checked her bandage.

“Do you want one of these?” She passed Lexy one of the magazines Edward had left on the end of the bed. Lexy tried to read while the nurse busied herself over at the sink. Her headache made the words blur, but she also found she wasn’t as interested in fashion as she had been last week. Last week when she had been Alexandra Warwick-Holmes. It felt like years ago. Certainly felt like she’d aged years in the last few days. She dropped the magazine back on the bed, feeling her eyelids flutter.

An insistent racket brought Lexy out of her sleep. The phone on her bedside table was ringing. She reached out and put it to her ear.

“Hello?” she mumbled.

“Lexy? Is that you?” She thought she recognised the voice, but she could hardly hear it.

“Speak up,” she said.

“I can’t, sweetie. I’m hiding.”

“Edward?”

“Listen – I’m in Guy Ellenger’s garden. Behind the ceanothus.”

“Ceanothus?”

“It’s a shrub. I’m in his shrubbery.”

“Is there any point asking why?” Lexy found herself unaccountably whispering too.

“I came to pick up Kinky for you, like you said. Guy wasn’t in, but I could hear the dogs, so I came round the back.” The phone crackled, and Lexy heard yapping. “Shut it, you noisy little...”

“Edward – are you still there?”

“Yes. Which one is Kinky?”

“Sorry?”

“Lexy – there’s five ruddy chihuahuas in this garden. Which one is Kinky? And don’t say the brown one.”

“He’s the one with the little stitches in his ear.”

“I haven’t got my flipping reading glasses with me.”

“Let me talk to them,” Lexy hissed. She looked up sharply as the door opened. The nurse came in and gave her an interrogative look.

“Won’t be a sec,” she told him.

“What do you mean, let you talk to them?” Edward’s voice was a low scream.

“Hold the phone down near the dogs,” she murmured, aware of the nurse’s penetrating stare.

“Right, I’m doing it,” she heard Edward say. “Quick. This place is swarming with coppers.”

Coppers? What was he on about? “Kinky,” whispered Lexy lightly into the phone. “Come here, boy.”

The nurse pursed his lips.

“Louder,” she heard Edward mutter.

Lexy drew a deep breath. “Kinky,” she yelled. “Come to the phone. Come to Lexy.”

“That’s got it. Up you come, matey-boy.”

“Ahem,” said the nurse.

“I’ll ring you back in a minute,” Lexy said, relief flooding through her. At least the mutt was safe now. Safe from what, though? She didn’t really know.

“Sorry.” Lexy put the receiver down, her face reddening. “That was my dog...”

“I see.” The nurse regarded her closely.

“Chihuahua,” Lexy babbled. “Very intelligent breed.”

“May I examine you, please, Ms Lomax?”

“Of course. Think I’m all right now. In fact I’m feeling fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I wasn’t really talking to my dog.”

“Lie back please.”

When he’d gone, telling her in no uncertain terms to rest, Lexy reached for the phone again, punched out Edward’s mobile number from the piece of paper he’d left her.

“Edward – where are you now?”

“On the way back to my place. Kinky is reclining on a cushion on the back seat.”

“What’s this about the police? At Guy’s?”

“As far as I could make out from my hidey hole, he’s been arrested.”

“What?”

“Perhaps he’s the Clopwolde Clobberer.”

“No.” Lexy shook her head. Not Guy Ellenger.

“I know he’s handsome, darling, but that doesn’t mean he’s good. Got to go, or I’ll be arrested myself for gassing into my phone while driving. Give me a ring later. And don’t worry about Kinky. He’ll be treated like royalty. I’m off to Peter’s. Bye-ee.”

Lexy swore softly. What the hell had Milo done? She picked up his card and dialled his number, but his phone was switched off. She called Edward again.

“Listen – sorry – but can you come and get me now?” she said, lowering her voice even though the door was shut. “They’ve discharged me. Need the bed, apparently. Told me to go home and take it easy.”

“Charming. It’s a bit soon, isn’t it, sweetie?”

“Oh... please just come and get me, Edward,” Lexy begged. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“What’s the time now – half one. I’ll be there at two.”

“Thanks. I’ll wait for you outside,” gasped Lexy.

As soon as she had put the phone down, Lexy began unwinding the bandage from her head. She wouldn’t be able to sneak past the nurses’ station looking like a Sikh.

She spent the next ten minutes gently easing herself up, and dressing. She checked herself in the mirror, recoiling in shock. She was as white as a skating rink. The wound she had sustained from the fall was on the back of her head, but the dressing felt like it was taped firmly in place. Taking a deep breath, Lexy picked up her bag, took a few steps forward and quietly opened the door.

The nurses’ station was temporarily deserted. Lexy tottered out and within moments was in the lift being borne swiftly to the hospital foyer. She smiled weakly. Piece of cake, sneaking out of hospital.

But as she weaved across the foyer, trying to resist the urge to sink down and cradle her throbbing head, she spotted a most unwelcome sight stalking through the front entrance. She tried to dodge behind a pillar but it was too late.

Milo loomed over her.

“What the...?”

“Why did you have Guy Ellenger arrested?” she demanded, hoarsely.

His eyes narrowed. “His alibi didn’t check out. His sister told me that she was in the surgery alone all Friday evening, sorting out the computer records. That’s where she was going when she left her house at seven-thirty on Friday evening.”

“Hope was at the surgery on her own all Friday evening?”

Lexy felt herself becoming even paler than she already was.

Hope must have been the person who Guy had been speaking to on the phone when he was setting up an alibi for himself. That call made sense now.

“...you know you were at the surgery yesterday evening? If anyone asks, I want you to say that we were there together. All evening. Do you understand what I’m saying? What? Yes, I’m really, really grateful. You know I am. You’re an angel. Bye-bye for now.”

Hope must have already had a few drinks when Guy spoke to her. When Lexy asked Hope the question later that evening, after she’d had still more to drink, Hope had suddenly become very still – as if she were trying to think hard. Yes, she’d said slowly. I was here all night on my own. She had nodded emphatically. Hope had forgotten what Guy had told her to say – got it wrong.

Lexy’s shoulders drooped. “So you went to see Guy?”

“No – that would have blown my cover. He was out on a call when I spoke to Hope, but I put in an anonymous tip-off to the station, and they must have collared him on the way back, at his place, from what you say. He’s probably being questioned now.”

Lexy regarded him dismally, wondering how much Guy was going to let on.

“Sheri-Anne Davis is next on my list,” Milo went on. “I want a few words with her about what was going on last night – seeing as you can’t remember.”

That wasn’t good. Lexy needed to get back to that barn before Milo got to Sheri-Anne.

She made to move past the detective. He blocked her way.

“What are you up to now?”

“Going home,” she replied. “I got discharged.”

“And I’m the Pope,” he said steadily. “You’re coming back to that ward with me.”

“No way. I told you, I’m out of here.” Lexy veered to one side, trying to push away an image of Milo in Papal regalia.

He moved in front of her. “You’re up to something again.”

Lexy felt a sudden bolt of anger. He was like a dog with a bone. “I’m not up to anything. I just want to go home. God knows I didn’t want to be involved in any of this in the first place! I came down here to be incognito. That’s a joke, isn’t it, with you following me everywhere like a bloody... bloodhound.” She felt her hands grip her t-shirt as if she were about to rip it in half. “If I had only just borrowed the bloody money in the bloody suitcase in the first place...”

“What bloody suitcase?”

“Stop asking stupid questions,” she snarled.

“I’m a policeman,” he snapped back. “That’s what I do – ask stupid questions. Well... questions, anyway.”

They glowered at each other.

Lexy tacked determinedly towards the exit.

“How are you getting home?” He drew level with her.

“Someone’s picking me up,” she said, staring straight ahead.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Well, believe this – I’m about to throw up all over your Hush Puppies.”

He took a hasty step back. “They’re Wranglers, actually.” He pushed her on to a nearby chair. “Deep breaths. I’ll get you a... receptacle.” He strode off.

As soon as he was out of sight Lexy got to her feet and, gritting her teeth firmly, finally escaped. The pneumatic front doors hissed shut emphatically behind her.

Edward, behind the wheel of his Jaguar, was waiting on the service road.

“You all right, sweetheart?”

“I am now,” said Lexy. “Felt a bit queasy a moment ago, but it passed. Hey, Kinkster!”

The chihuahua had jumped out of the car and leapt joyfully up at her.

“How have you been, boy? Sorry I passed out on you.”

She slid into the car, holding Kinky. “Oh, no.” She ducked her head down. “Edward – drive.”

“What... oh, I see.”

The Jaguar accelerated smoothly on to the main road.

Lexy took a quick look behind. Milo was standing outside the hospital holding a cardboard hat, looking both exasperated and vaguely forlorn.

“So are you going to tell me why I’ve just had to kidnap your dog and bust you out of hospital?” Edward enquired.

“Another long story.”

“You’re full of them, lovie. Did your tall policeman, from whom you now appear to be on the run, tell you what’s been going on with our friendly neighbourhood vet? Like why’s he been arrested?”

Lexy shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. DI Milo said Guy’s been taken in for questioning over Avril’s murder, because he’d lied about his alibi for last Friday.”

Edward gazed at Lexy, his mouth forming a ludicrous ‘O’.

“Watch the road,” she snapped.

“Oops.” The Jaguar swerved to avoid an oncoming motorcycle. “But they’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick,” Edward protested. “Guy Ellenger’s no murderer.”

“I agree,” said Lexy. Apart from having killed his father. That old chestnut again.

“But if it wasn’t Guy, who else could it have been?” Edward reached for a pair of shades on the dashboard, and slid them on.

“Someone else from the am-dram?” Lexy said.

“Maybe – Avril certainly knew how to rock the boat.” Edward glanced at her. “Take Sheri-Anne Davis for starters. Avril threatened to expose her grubby little affair with one of the cast members. I overheard them speaking in the foyer the other week.”

Lexy turned to him, sharply.

“Didn’t catch with whom, to my annoyance. But it’s so much fun speculating. I do so want it to be a woman – wouldn’t it be delicious if that got out?” He sighed wistfully. “It’s got to be someone with money – have you seen Sheri-Anne’s shoes?”

“Yeah – I used to have a pair like them. Six hundred quid and they hurt like billy-o.” Lexy stared into space.

“That’s fashion, darling. No gain without pain. Where am I taking you, by the way? Home, I hope.”

“No – I actually need to go to a barn in the middle of nowhere.”

“I might have known.”

“Can you turn left up here? I’ll have to try to remember the way.”

Edward indicated, giving her a sideways glance. “Are you sure you don’t want to go home, lovie? That knock on the head might have sent you doolally. In fact...”

“No – I know what I’m doing. Right here, and then down that lane through the heath.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

Oh, yeah. She was sure. She just hoped they’d get there in time.

A short while after, the Jaguar was bumping along the track that led to the disused barn.

Edward parked, switched off the engine, and regarded Lexy dubiously. So did Kinky. “Better leave him here.” Lexy pushed open the car door, clutching momentarily at her aching head.

“This is where I fell over and concussed myself last night,” she said as they walked towards the barn.

Edward recoiled. “Why on earth did you want to come back?”

“I have my reasons.” She led Edward to the barn door. It was locked. “Bollocks.” She gave it a weak shove. “Got to get in.”

“Can’t.” He pointed to the shiny padlock.

“It’s a matter of life or death.”

“Here we go again.” Edward rolled his eyes. “Seeing as I was arrested only last week for criminal damage, I might as well add breaking and entering to my repertoire, although God knows why you want to get into...” He eased her to one side, and pushed his shoulder hard against the door. The rotten wooden panelling split obligingly, and the door swung open.

They were greeted by a small wailing sound.

“Hello, Noo-Noo,” said Lexy.

“Well, I’ll be jiggered.” Edward stared at the cat in astonishment. She was in a strong metal cage, with a blanket-filled box at one end. A litter tray, food and water had been provided, together with a pile of cat toys, but Princess was clearly delighted to have some human company. And she was looking rather smug.

“How on earth did you...?”

“I followed the cat-napper yesterday.”

Edward watched her, eyes goggling. “Who was...?”

“Our very own trainee veterinary nurse – Sheri-Anne Davis.”

Edward gasped.

“And someone else,” said Lexy. “Presumably her mysterious lover, but I didn’t see him. Or her,” she conceded. “There was another car here when I arrived, but I can’t remember the make or colour. Sure I’ve seen it recently, though.”

Lexy, holding her throbbing head with one hand, reached down and picked up a wicker cat basket. “Noticed this when I was looking in yesterday evening,” she said through gritted teeth. “Now, all we’ve got to do is get Princess in it. And I happen to know she’s an acrobat, so let’s make doubly sure she doesn’t give us the slip.”

Lexy undid the metal clasp on the cage door. Edward stood behind her, knees bent and arms spread like a goalkeeper, and Lexy opened the door and put the basket against the aperture.

Princess Noo-Noo was far too curious not to creep into the basket to examine it, and as soon as her whip-like tail followed the rest of her in Lexy slammed it shut.

“Sorry and all that,” she said, as the cat writhed and scrabbled in her wicker jail. “But we’re not going to chase you halfway across Suffolk. Not with you in that condition. Speaking of which – now for him.” Lexy pointed to the other end of the barn.

Edward jumped. A large black tom cat with infuriated eyes was sitting in a similar cage, half hidden behind some bales of hay.

“He lives at the farm just down the road,” said Lexy. “He’ll find his own way back. Stand aside.”

Edward leapt on to a bale of hay. The cat made a ghastly low growling sound as Lexy approached. Princess meowed fearfully from her basket. Lexy spoke to the tom gently, flipped the metal clasp, and watched him shoot out of the barn like a furry black bullet without a second look at the Caradocs’ cat. Typical male, she thought.

“Right, I think we should follow his example, although less quickly.” Head throbbing, Lexy picked up the wicker cat basket, and the three of them made for Edward’s car. An apprehensive-looking chihuahua watched them approach from a side window.

Both Caradocs were home when Edward and Lexy arrived on their doorstep at half past three.

Tammy answered the door, looking haggard.

“What are you doing here?”

“Special delivery.” Lexy produced the cat basket from behind Edward.

For a moment Tammy just stared disbelievingly at her cat.

Princess Noo-Noo peered back at her through the wire front mesh of her prison, her pink, heart-shaped mouth producing the same ear-splitting yowl that had accompanied Lexy, Edward and Kinky all the way back from the barn.

Tammy’s drawn, exhausted face underwent a transformation. For a split second Lexy glimpsed the glamorous young actress DI Milo had admired twenty years ago.

Fingers shaking, face flooding, Tammy unfastened the plastic catch. Princess leapt straight out and attached herself to Tammy’s large front.

“Oh, bless – I’m welling up here myself,” said Edward, fishing out a hanky and dabbing his eyes.

Tristan appeared. “What’s going on? Did I hear...?” He gave a theatrical gasp. “Princess! She’s back!”

He staggered forward, putting out an incredulous hand to the cat-limpet.

“How...?”

“It was Lexy,” said Tammy.

“You found the little mite?” Tristan, copper-coloured eyes brimming with tears, stared at Lexy. “How in the...where was she?”

“It’s a...” Lexy gave them both a tired smile. “Can we go and sit down?”

Edward, Lexy and Tristan went into the living room. Princess gave the sofa a joyful clawing while Tammy poured champagne in the kitchen.

Tristan gazed fixedly at the cat. “I just can’t believe she’s back. It’s a dream come true. I... dammit!” He jumped up. “I’m meant to be meeting Al Cromarty at the pub – you know – the actor? Lives down here now. Good friend of mine. Better tell him I’ll be late – won’t be a moment.”

“Name dropper,” snorted Edward, when Tristan had left the room. “And look at this place – I mean, look!” He swept an arm around at the legion of photographs. “Don’t they get tired of looking at themselves? I’m sick of the sight of them alrea...”

“Ssh,” said Lexy, as Tammy came in with a tray, tears still cascading down her face.

Edward adopted his previous pose, smiling mistily and clutching his handkerchief.

“I don’t know how we’re ever going to repay you,” Tammy sniffed.

Lexy gave her a sharp glance. With money, hopefully.

Tristan returned at that moment, and when the glasses were handed around and chinked, Lexy found all eyes on her.

“Come on, lovie – spill the beans.” Edward’s equilibrium seemed to be returning; he threw back his champagne enthusiastically. “How did you pull this one off?”

“It was just an idea in the back of my mind,” Lexy began. She turned to Tammy. “It was when I saw the photograph of Princess and you told me how you’d rescued her. You see, years ago, I heard a story about an odd-looking kitten born in a litter of farm cats in Cornwall. Turned out that he was a genuine mutation, and after some... er... in-breeding, he sired two curly-haired kittens. This was the origin of the Cornish Rex – a new cat breed. A similar thing happened in Devon.”

“So, are you saying that our Noo-Noo is a Rex?” Tammy gazed down in amazement at the clownish cat, who was pummelling her ample chest slowly, eyes half-shut, like a punch-drunk boxer.

“I’m saying she’s a Suffolk Rex,” said Lexy. “The first of a new breed. Very significant in the cat world.”

The Caradocs and Edward leant forwards. “So – whoever stole her,” said Tristan, slowly, “knew exactly what they were doing.”

“Yup. They saw her potential to make money. They tracked down Princess’s father, the big tom cat that lives over on Mellowsham Farm, waited until Princess was – well – just mature enough to, you know... rock the Kasbah, and got the two of them together.”

Tammy looked horrified. “They let Noo-Noo’s father...? That’s...”

“Disgusting,” supplied Tristan. Even Edward looked shocked.

“It was the only way to create more little Suffolk Rexes,” said Lexy, matter-of-factly. “And each of them is going to be worth a fortune.”

“Really?” Tristan looked at his cat with new respect. “Er... where did you find her?”

“She was being kept in an old barn out near Mellowsham Farm.”

“How did you find that out?”

“Lucky guess,” Lexy lied. “I was following...some leads.”

Edward shot her a glance.

“Who did this?” said Tammy, ominously. “Who stole her?” Tristan put his hand comfortingly over hers.

Lexy rubbed her chin. “I’m not sure. I’ll need to do some more digging.” She stood up and cleared her throat. “Was there some mention of a reward...?”

“Tristan! Haven’t you given her anything yet?” Tammy jerked her hand from her husband’s. He obediently produced a wallet and began peeling twenty-pound notes from it.

“And if you’ve got any sense, you’ll go straight to bed, now you’ve done the fairy godmother bit,” Edward harangued on the way back to Otter’s End.

“It’s five o’clock in the evening,” Lexy pointed out. She had counted out the bundle of notes Tristan had given her. Two hundred pounds. That was better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. A lot better.

The Jaguar turned up Cliff Lane, making the steep ascent to Otter’s End. They got out and walked up to the front door of the log cabin together, Kinky leading the way with a proprietary air.

“You know that little cow Sheri-Anne stole the cat,” said Edward. “Why didn’t you just tell them?”

“I want to find out who her accomplice was first.”

“Any ideas?”

“That’s the trouble. I’m not sure. It could be her boyfriend, Lance. His dad owns Mellowsham Farm.”

“Oho,” said Edward.

“But I think we’re looking for someone with a few more grey cells.”

They went into the airless cabin and through to the small kitchen.

Edward reached for the coffee and cafetière he had bought Lexy. “Got anything to eat?”

Lexy opened the formica cupboard. “Lentils, couscous, stuff like that.”

Edward made a face. “I’m off, then.”

“OK,” said Lexy, torn between relief and pique. “You’ve been the best today – I can’t believe how much of your time I’ve taken up. And I’ve got Kinky back. Thanks ever so much. For everything.”

“You don’t need to make an Oscar acceptance speech,” snorted Edward. “I’m coming straight back with some decent nosh. Did you seriously think I was going to leave you on your own in your condition?”

He swept out of the door.

Lexy stood in the now familiar living room, uncertain what to do next. Her first instinct was to go and check that the suitcase was still under the bed. It was. Lexy regarded it with mixed emotions. She needed to offload it without any more delay. Things were due to get pretty hot around here soon, and if the police were going to catch up with her, she wanted to make sure the five hundred grand wasn’t still sitting under the bed to complicate matters. She’d just have to make the money Tristan had given her last as long as possible.

As she passed back into the living room, Lexy was brought up short by a small flashing light. It was the telephone answering machine. Someone had left a message. Two messages.

Might be a couple more jobs. Not that she ought...

She fumbled behind the sofa and pressed the play button.

“It’s Milo. Listen – I can’t find Sheri-Anne Davis – no one seems to know where she is. Can you call me if you see her?”

The phone kicked into the next message.

“Hi, Lexy – Guy Ellenger. I’m in Lowestoft police station. There’s been some kind of mix-up. They seem to think I’m involved in this Avril Todd thing – no idea why. They swooped on my house earlier and took me off with my arm up my back. Unbelievable. Thankfully, no one was around to see – the neighbours were out. Anyway – I’m really sorry to get you involved like this but I didn’t have a chance to sort the dogs out before I got bundled off. My lot are inside, but Kinky didn’t come in with them when I called, so I guess he must still be in the garden.”

Lexy grimaced at the phone.

“When you pick up Kinky, can you drop in and feed them? I can’t ask Hope – she’d want to know where I was, and it would all be a bit awkward. But I know I can count on you to be discreet. The back door key is under the mat – original, eh? I should be back soon, anyhow, when the police realise they’re barking up the wrong tree.” He laughed nervously. “I hope you get this message. See you later. Yes, well, thanks in advance.”

The answering machine clicked as he rang off.

Lexy stared at the phone, imagining Guy being questioned in an interview room. “Barking up the wrong tree,” she said, half-aloud. “Is that what I’ve been doing? Getting hold of the wrong end of the stick?” Then, more thoughtfully, “Like a dog with a bone.” A series of images suddenly ran through her mind – Kinky having his ear stitched, Kinky sniffing at a stick, Kinky, somewhere, trying to find a bone. Dog’s DNA in the wound...

“Hello, sweetie. Are you all right?”

Edward had a Miu-Miu bag dangling from his arm. He went straight into the kitchen, and began laying packages on the table.

“Now then, English muffins, strawberries, cream...”

“Edward,” Lexy said. “I’m really sorry about this, but – I need to go out again.”

He put his hands on his hips. “I’m starting to think you don’t like civilised food. Is there another problem?”

“Yeah. Guy Ellenger’s still at the police station.”

“Still?” Edward looked at his watch. “It’s half five. He must have been there for four hours. That’s not good.”

“He wants me to go and feed his dogs.”

Edward’s neatly barbered eyebrows shot up. “Honestly. Doesn’t he know you’ve only just got out of hospital?”

“I don’t mind – won’t take me long to drive there and back. Come on, Kinky.”

The chihuahua took one look at the bunch of car keys Lexy was dangling and dived under the sideboard.

“Don’t be silly – I’ll take you,” said Edward.

“There’s no need –really. Come here, Kinky.” Lexy added, with some force.

“Never a dull moment with you, is there?” Edward strode out of the kitchen. He was holding a long-handled broom. “And I thought San Francisco was non-stop.”

“Er...what are you doing?” Lexy moved towards the door.

“You want him to come with us, don’t you?” Edward knelt beside the sideboard and gently eased Kinky out with the aid of the broom head. “Quickest way I know. Works with small children, too.”

He smiled indulgently at Kinky. “Poor little pooch. You’re still trying to get over the trauma of having to share a car with a cat that makes more noise than you do, aren’t you?”

He held open the door. “Right – come on, what are we waiting for?”

Soon the Jaguar was bumping back over the ruts of Cliff Lane in the direction of Clopwolde. Lexy and Kinky sat in the front passenger seat, Lexy staring silently ahead, Kinky looking back longingly at the cabin.

“I hope Guy’s not having as bad a time as I did,” said Edward. “When I got taken in for questioning after the old man went over the cliff last year, they were positively rude. Brutal, even.”

“What happened?” Lexy asked distractedly.

Edward sighed. “Dad had this habit of taking Nimrod out for a constitutional at about eleven every night. Poor old Nimrod couldn’t go through the night otherwise – prostate, you see. Curse of the male gender. It was windy and cold and the old man must have gone too near to the edge.” Edward shook his head. “He should have known better. We’ve lost nine log cabins, several outbuildings and at least three locals over the last fifteen years.”

“Nine log cabins?”

“Yes, lovie. We need to talk about that. Anyway, a couple of fishermen found dad’s body on the beach early the next morning. First I knew of it was when I got woken up by the police after an hour’s sleep, having been out on an absolute bender the night before. I’d got in at about three-thirty and I just assumed the old man was asleep in bed. When I was rudely awoken from my alcohol-drenched slumber to hear he’d been found on the beach I flew into a rage and started calling him every name under the sun for going near the edge. God knows what the Old Bill thought.” He smiled wryly. “Actually, it was startlingly obvious what they thought. They asked me to get dressed straight away and accompany them to the station to give a statement. Shocking, it was. I didn’t get a coffee until about ten o’clock, and that was a vending machine one. Vile.” He shuddered. “But at least they were happy with my version of events. Verdict – accidental death. Anyway, these log cabins...”

Minutes later, the Jaguar pulled to a halt outside Guy Ellenger’s house. Lexy was looking rather pale. They saw a curtain flick at the Caradocs’ window next door.

Lexy left Edward in the car and, followed by Kinky, let herself into the garden, and down the side of the bungalow to the back door. The sound of chihuahuas in full throat reverberated from the house. Kinky stood stock-still, his nose quivering.

Lexy located the key.

“All right, boys – it’s me,” called Lexy, gently. “Come to give you your dinner.”

“Thank heavens for that!”

Lexy recognised the fruity voice as Tristan Caradoc’s. He was obviously standing behind the high wall that divided the two bungalows.

“I thought I saw your svelte form disembarking from Edward’s car,” the voice went on. “The little buggers have been barking in there ever since we got back this afternoon. We were starting to get worried.”

“Guy says sorry,” called Lexy. “He’s been detained.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No. He’s got a family... thing... to attend to. Well, must feed these dogs.”

She unlocked the kitchen door and found herself in a small canine sea. They swarmed in the direction of a larder, where Lexy found a bag of dog biscuits and a stack of small stainless steel bowls. She carefully ladled a pile of biscuits into each bowl, with an additional one for Kinky, and put them down in a row, smiling at the column of waving tails.

She didn’t even hear the back door open.

“Wha’ you doing here?”

It was Hope Ellenger. And she was slurring again.

“Hi,” said Lexy, brightly. “I ran into Guy. He asked me to pop over and feed the dogs. He’s tied up with an emergency – near my place.”

“Why didn’ ’e call me? He always calls me.”

“His batteries are flat. In the phone.”

“But he should’ve asked you to come to me.”

“The main thing is, they’re fed,” said Lexy.

“And yours, too.”

“I couldn’t let him stand by and watch.” Lexy tried an engaging grin.

“I’ll take over from here.”

“Fine. C’mon Kinky.”

Lexy led an indignant Kinky outside. She looked back at the door. Would Hope be all right on her own? Somehow or other Lexy would have to get a message to Guy now, to let him know that his sister was waiting in for him, and she wasn’t best pleased to have been passed over in favour of a scruffy newcomer. Lexy pondered uneasily for a moment.

“Are you still there?” It was Tristan’s voice, speaking quietly on the other side of the wall.

“Yes.”

“Can you pop round quickly?”

Lexy rolled her eyes. Now what? “OK. I’ll see you in a sec.”

She went out of Guy’s gate. “Just got to see Tristan. Five minutes.”

Edward groaned.

“I’ll let him know you’re waiting with the engine running.”

“It’s what I tell all the boys.”

Lexy slipped into the Caradocs’ neat drive. Tristan met her at the door, looking red and flushed with what Lexy hoped was excitement at getting his cat back.

He beckoned her into the hall, after she had told Kinky to stay put outside. “Tammy and I have been on the Internet finding out about Rex cats. Absolute fortune she’s worth.”

A phone rang from another room. “Wait a tick,” he said.

Lexy caressed Princess, who was slaloming around her legs, and studied the photos again. There was one of Tristan dressed ludicrously as Margaret Thatcher in a tight blue two-piece, alongside someone dressed as Ronald Reagan, in a cowboy outfit, and...

Tristan reappeared. “Alternative panto in Lowestoft last year,” he murmured.

He handed Lexy a much larger roll of notes than he had earlier.

“What’s that for?” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the photo.

“Finding Princess, of course.”

“You’ve already given me two hundred pounds. I can’t take any more.”

“You jolly well can, young lady.” He wrapped Lexy’s fingers around it. “Just an extra token of our appreciation. If she’s expecting, we’ll be set up for life. Tammy’s been down at the travel agents already.” He grinned easily. “I’ve been down the pub. Tammy must have come back, and gone straight out again – probably to raid the delicatessen this time.”

“Thanks. I’m j... just glad Princess is back,” stammered Lexy. “I’ll... er... see you...”

“At the ghost walk next Friday?” His eyebrows worked humorously.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there. Tristan – you – er... haven’t seen Sheri-Anne Davis this afternoon, have you?”

His smile became guarded. “No. Why would I?”

“I... no reason. Well, best be off. Thanks for this.”

Lexy pocketed the money and walked quickly back to the Jaguar, aware of Tristan still watching her from the doorstep.

She ducked in. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

“God ’elp us, not another?” Edward’s face became serious at her expression.

“Need to find Sheri-Anne.”

“Why?”

“I’ll just feel happier if we can.”

Edward started the engine. “Village?”

“Yes – quick.”

Edward put his foot down.

“Did you see Hope go into Guy’s place?” Lexy clutched at the dashboard as Kinky shot into the back seat.

“No.”

“She scared the bejesus out of me in there. She must have come in the back way.”

They pulled into the high street. “Where to?”

“Let’s start at the village hall.”

There was a parking space right outside.

“Have you got a key?” Lexy was already jumping out.

Edward groped in the glove compartment. “I wish you’d tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m not completely sure myself.”

“A small snippet would suffice.” He unlocked the door and stood aside to let Lexy into the foyer.

“Where are all the costumes kept?” she demanded.

“In the wardrobe room of course.”

“Show me.” Lexy felt urgency grabbing at her in a distinctly over-friendly way.

Edward, still grumbling, flicked a couple of light switches and took Lexy through the double doors into the hall, and up some stairs to the left of the stage, Kinky at their heels.

“It might be locked. Don’t make me break the law for the third time in a week.”

But the wardrobe room door had been left ajar. Lexy gave it a push, and they went inside. Rails of garishly coloured theatre costumes lined the walls, and an open cupboard stood in a corner full of wigs, folded scarves, hats, bonnets and gloves.

Watched quizzically by Edward, Lexy quickly flicked through the clothing on the rails and examined the accessories in the open cupboard, before turning away, disappointed. Then her eye fell on an old trunk that, judging by the tracks in the dust, had recently been pushed under a wide shelf.

“Help me.”

Edward sighed. “It’s only going to have some mangy old costumes in it from The Importance of Being Earnest. Now, there was a good play. My finest hour, in fact.”

They heaved the trunk back through the dust. Lexy flipped the catches and pushed the lid back.

Kinky began to whine.

A blue skirt and blue fitted top, size 22, lay inside, spattered with dark red stains, together with a piled-up wig that had been dyed the colour of rust.

“That wasn’t in The Importance of Being Earnest...”

“I know. It featured in a different drama. A real-life one. Come on! We really do need to find Sheri-Anne.”

Lexy was already heading back down the stairs. She heard Edward bang down the lid of the trunk and shove it back under the shelf, Kinky still whining insistently. He must have smelled the blood.

Edward and Kinky caught up as she strode through the silent hall.

“You’re making me very nervous now, sweetie,” Edward panted. “Why have we got to find Sheri-Anne?”

“I think she might be able to shed some light on Avril’s murder. And because of that she’s in danger. Let’s just get out of here. I’ll tell you when we’re somewhere safe. I feel like someone here’s listening to us.”

They burst into the high street. A passing group of tourists looked at them askance.

Edward locked the door, fumbling with the key.

“Where’s your mobile?” Lexy snapped.

“It’s in the car. Who are you going to ring?”

“Milo.” She pulled the detective’s card from her bag and prodded out the number on Edward’s phone. It went straight to voicemail. She cursed.

“It’s me. If you get this, can you come straight to Clopwolde? I think Sheri-Anne’s in danger. We’re just going over to the vet’s surgery now to look for her.” She pushed the phone back at Edward and, grabbing Kinky, began to cross the road.

“Oh-oh, there’s Tammy.” Lexy pulled Edward down behind a parked car. “Don’t want to get caught up with her again.”

“Why did you have to pick a bloody Mini to hide behind? I’m much taller than you, in case you hadn’t noticed, and my knees aren’t what they used to be. And people are looking at us.”

“Shut up and pretend you’ve lost something.” Lexy peered through the car windows at Tammy’s ample, receding form.

“OK – she’s...” Lexy stared down at the car. “Edward – this is Sheri-Anne’s Mini. She must be in the surgery.”

They darted down the narrow alley to the vet’s.

“Looks closed.” Edward checked his watch.

“She’s been known to work late.”

Lexy tried the door. It was unlocked.

She and Edward exchanged a glance.

“I’m going in,” said Lexy, “but can you stay out here? Let me know if anyone turns up?”

“Who’s likely to turn up?” Edward said, exasperated.

“I told you – I’m not sure – yet.”

“You owe me a very large Pimms in the pub later.”

“Done.” Lexy walked into the waiting room. Kinky followed reluctantly, and hovered by the door, one slim paw raised, ready to dash out at a moment’s notice.

“Sheri-Anne? You in here?” Lexy crossed to the reception desk. There was an empty vodka bottle at the back of the shelf. Presumably what Hope had been knocking back before she went over to Guy’s bungalow earlier.

Outside, she heard Edward start to warble Some Enchanted Evening. Very appropriate. This was shaping up to be one of the least enchanted evenings of her whole life.

Lexy checked the small office behind reception. Empty. There was a door at the back. She walked over and opened it. It led to the drug room at the back of Guy’s surgery.

Remiss of someone to leave the place unlocked. Lexy walked through, opened the back door of the vet’s surgery and went in.

Edward’s singing filtered in through a small, high window – open a fraction, but barred. Obviously designed to prevent escape bids by panicking pets. Lexy glanced up at the gruesome, yellowing St Bernard’s femur on the wall. She remembered looking up at that same bone when she had brought Kinky in to be stitched up.

Except there was something different about it now.

Lexy walked around the examination bench and took a closer look. The bone had been taken down and put back the wrong way round. The heavy knuckle end was now balanced precariously on the smaller of the two brackets.

In the waiting room beyond, she heard Kinky give a small growl.

“Fools want to tell you, wise men never TRY...” Edward was working up to a crescendo. Kinky barked. Lexy was surprised he wasn’t howling.

She opened the door to the waiting room.

“SOME ENCHANTED EVENING...”

But there was a different voice singing alongside Edward’s. Right behind her in the surgery.

Lexy spun around.

“Christ! You scared the life out of me!”

Tristan Caradoc shook back his mane of hair. “I’m mortified, darling. I didn’t think my singing was that bad.”

“Did you just arrive?” What was Edward playing at? Apart from trying to deafen everyone within a five-mile radius of Clopwolde.

“I was here already, actually. That’s why the front door was open.” Tristan swung a key from his hand. “So – did you find Sheri-Anne?”

“No. But we think she’s in some kind of trouble.”

“She will be when I catch up with her. I’ve been looking everywhere for the little cow.”

“This is serious,” Lexy snapped. “If she’s not here, we need to get out there and look for her.”

“Not you, Lexy Lomax. Oh, no. You’ve caused me quite enough trouble today. What you need right now is a nice little sleep.”

Tristan brought his right hand up. In it he held a syringe full of a colourless liquid.

Kinky, now standing in the half-open doorway, gave a low growl.

“Don’t make me laugh, you little prick.” Tristan made a sudden darting move around one side of the examination bench, slamming the door shut on Kinky and forcing Lexy around the table, effectively trapping her against the back wall.

Kinky immediately set up a volley of barks on the other side of the door.

“Charming,” remarked Lexy, her eyes flickering around the room. She gave an involuntary glance up at the bone, now balancing on the edge of the bracket above her head. That door slam had very nearly brought it down on top of her.

The drug room was on her left now. Through the small barred window opposite came the rousing strains of Bloody Mary.

“Edward!” Lexy suddenly screamed at the top of her voice. “Ed-ward!”

But Edward was in full flow and didn’t miss a beat.

Lexy’s eyes met Tristan’s.

“Didn’t you know?” he mocked. “The motto of the De Glenvilles is Me First. He’s far too enchanted with his own magnificent voice to hear yours. Which is just as well.”

Lexy tried to smile. “So, when did you first realise that Princess was something far more significant than an odd-looking litter runt?” she asked, conversationally.

Tristan eyed her. “So you’ve cottoned on at last?” He gave her a lop-sided smile. “It was dear Avril who spelt it out to me, actually. Lucky – she might have told Tammy first, then things would have been quite different. As it was, Avril popped round to see Tammy one morning – it was quite some months ago – something to do with a raffle, I think. It wasn’t long after we’d got Princess. Avril, being a cat person, noticed something familiar about our little bundle of joy that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Not at the time, anyway. But a day or two later, the penny must have dropped. So she collared me in the high street. Did you know you might have a new breed of cat there, Tristan?” He did Avril’s flat, penetrating accent very well. “A Rex?”

Tristan flicked his hair back. A small drip of liquid fell from the syringe.

“I popped into the library. Checked it out for myself. The woman was right. And when I dug a little deeper, I realised that, far from having the runt of the litter, we had the jewel in the crown.”

He drew a self-satisfied breath. “Just think. A new breed of cat. She would command thousands. And if she was bred back to her daddy – well...” He shrugged. “World was my oyster.”

“Just your oyster? What about Tammy’s?”

“I wasn’t going to tell her. Truth is, Tammy and I haven’t been getting along too well since the old girl’s stage career fizzled out, and, most unfortunately, her looks with it. Even with black leather and lace it was becoming a struggle.”

He gave Lexy a salacious smirk. “I had to look elsewhere. A lot of young women go for the more mature man. Especially in a backwater like this.”

“And especially if he takes them to bistros and buys them Prada shoes.”

“Quite. Anyway, the money I’d been throwing around was our retirement savings, so the news about Princess was timely, as you can imagine. I had been rather hoping to continue living in the style to which I’d become accustomed. But somehow I needed to organise things without Tammy twigging. And I also needed Avril to keep her trap shut. So I told her I was going to get Princess registered as a new breed on the QT, and then surprise Tammy with it on our wedding anniversary.”

“Very romantic,” said Lexy, trying to keep her eye on the syringe. She had moved an inch further along the wall to her left.

“Avril realised, as quick as a tick, what I was up to, and said she’d be delighted to keep my little secret, as long as I made her a regular monthly payment.”

Tristan gave Lexy a wry look. “Even so, it was still worth it. But I needed someone competent around animals to help put my little plan into action. So I took the lovely Sheri-Anne into my confidence. We worked everything out very carefully. Chose a date when Princess would be receptive to a male cat and tracked down and swiped the only one who would do – her own father.” He frowned. “Still find that distasteful. Also Sheri-Anne had to seduce that thick lump Lance, in order to get close to the tom. Oh, well. All was going fine though, until Avril caught Sheri-Anne and me together in a little wine bar, making plans to move away on the proceeds of our venture. Can’t imagine how she knew we were there – I suppose she must have followed us. Bitch. So the monthly payments went up.”

He glanced up at the window as Edward went straight into Happy Talk.

Lexy eased herself two more inches to the left. If she got out of this in one piece she never wanted to hear the words ‘South’ and ‘Pacific’ again. If she got out.

“But you were nearly there,” she heard herself say. “Avril being paid off, Princess ready to rock, Tammy none the wiser.”

“Yes – apart from the problem with Avril, everything else was as smooth as silk. Until she had the idea of a large cash payment.” Tristan’s eyes hardened. “At which point I was starting to think that she would be better off out of the equation altogether.”

Lexy stiffened. He was going to confess. And she thought the ghost walk on Friday night had been such a strong alibi for Tristan. She should have checked...

“But someone beat me to it.”

Huh? Lexy’s eyes opened wide.

Tristan gave a rich chuckle. “When I heard that Avril had been bumped off I had to stop myself leaping up and punching the air! First thing I did was nip back and grab the blackmail money Sheri-Anne and I had left for the old witch.”

Lexy’s lips twisted. Milo’s uniformed colleagues would think that they’d been sent on a fool’s mission when they turned up at the village hall.

She drew in a breath. Milo. If he picked up her message he could be here any moment. Quick as you like, Venus, she prayed.

“Anyway, Operation Catnap had gone like a dream,” Tristan was saying. “We’d got the male cat caged up and ready in the barn. Sheri-Anne had to do a bit of work to get them both in the mood, but the violins and candlelight paid off in the end.” He sighed. “We were going to collect Princess from the barn this evening. Take her with us to the States. Got her passport and everything. Flights booked. Then sell the kittens, except for one of the male ones, of course, and... start all over again.” He glared up at the window. “Doesn’t he ever shut up?”

Lexy flexed herself. “So – you must have been really pleased to see me and Edward this afternoon, complete with Princess Noo-Noo?”

“I thought I hid my towering rage very well,” said Tristan. “It helps so much to have a stage background. But I have to admit you’ve messed things up quite badly. Now I’ve got to steal the bloody cat all over again.” He snorted. “When I find Sheri-Anne, that is. In fact I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time telling you all this...¦”

“So – Sheri-Anne’s OK?” Lexy interrupted.

“Fit as a fiddle. We had a little rendezvous at the village hall earlier.”

Lexy curled her lip distastefully, then gave Tristan a challenging look.

“What’s in the syringe?”

“Just a bit of sedative. You’ll have a nice snooze in the back of the surgery, Hope Ellenger will come in and find you tomorrow – shock, surprise – and Tammy will be waking up at home at about the same time. Meanwhile Sheri-Anne, Princess and I will be a memory. But one they’ll be talking about in Clopwolde for years.” He visibly preened himself.

“So what are you going to do about Edward?”

Tristan thought for a moment. “I’ll have to give him an armful too, won’t I?” He looked up at the window again. “A merciful release for us all.”

Lexy found herself almost agreeing with him.

“Have to call him in when I’ve dealt with you.” Tristan rubbed his chin. The syringe dripped again. “Tell him you’ve fainted or something, and when he’s bending over you – bosh! As they say.” He grinned.

“But if you didn’t kill Avril,” said Lexy, still trying to keep her voice even, “who did?”

“No idea. Now – let’s get this over with.”

Lexy tried desperately to make sense of the series of images flitting through her head. A blue, tight-fitting outfit. Rust-coloured wig. Avril walking up Windmill Hill at a quarter past seven on Friday evening. And Avril walking up Windmill Hill at seven-thirty.

She suppressed an exclamation. Both the old dears had been right! Which meant...

“Tristan – I don’t think you’re going to find Sheri-Anne.” Lexy eyed him urgently.

“What?” He waved the syringe impatiently. “Not at this rate I’m not.”

“Get a load of Honeybun TONIGHT!” Edward really knew how to belt them out.

Lexy flicked her eyes, led him forward another inch. He had reached the centre of the wall now and she was within a metre of the door to the drug room.

“I think someone else has already found her.”

“Rubbish. Now... I advise you not to struggle. Don’t want to put this in the wrong place – I’m not a doctor, although I’ve played plenty in my time. Here we go, one, two...”

“I mean it. She’s double-crossed you.”

He faltered. It was all she needed. Lexy launched herself at the open door to the drug room, grabbed the handle and yanked the door towards her as hard as she could. It slammed shut so violently the whole room shook.

She found herself involuntarily ducking as the huge St Bernard femur bounced from its bracket and crashed down straight on top of Tristan’s chestnut mane.

He staggered forward, cracked his head on the edge of the examination bench and slid to the floor, the syringe still in his hand.

The other door burst open, and DI Milo skidded in, followed by Kinky, with Edward bringing up the rear, goggling in disbelief.

At least he’d stopped singing.

“You cut it a bit fine,” said Lexy to Milo. He was already on his mobile.

“Ambulance, please. Clopwolde village veterinary surgery. A middle-aged IC one man unconscious with head wound...”

“Where did he spring from?” Edward pointed hysterically at Tristan. “He didn’t come past me, I swear.”

Lexy picked up Kinky and hugged him briefly. He glared at Tristan’s prone form. “He was already here,” she said. “We were having a cosy little chat, and the bone just chose that moment to fall off the wall. Knocked him off balance, and he hit his head on the examination bench.” She smiled grimly down at Tristan. “Bosh! As they say.”

Tristan gave a low moan.

“It can’t have hit him too hard,” said Milo. “He’s coming round.”

“What’s that?” Edward was staring at the syringe.

“Oh, that was meant for me,” said Lexy. “Animal sedative, I think. Tristan was intending to put me to sleep for a few hours. Then he was going to come for you.”

Edward looked so horror-struck that Lexy burst out laughing.

Milo was kneeling beside Tristan. She squatted next to him. “Thespian boy here’s the least of our problems,” she said, quietly.

Milo gave Lexy a sidelong glance. “So he’s not the killer?”

Lexy shook her head. “But I’ve had a chance to do some thinking. Astonishing how the mind is concentrated when some jerk starts waving a syringe in your face.” She paused. “You see, I think I now know why Avril Todd went to that field.”

Milo raised his eyebrows. Edward leaned on the examination bench, looking from one to the other.

“And she wasn’t there from choice,” Lexy declared.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember that problem with the old dears and the time Avril walked up the hill?”

“Huh?” said Edward.

“That again?” Milo shifted irritably.

“Yes. The thing is – they were both right.”

“What – so Avril came home, and went straight out again, then came back up the hill a few minutes later?” Milo gave her a weary look.

“No”, said Lexy, patiently. “They both saw Avril walking up the road at exactly the time they said. Except that the Avril who walked up the road at seven-thirty wasn’t the real Avril Todd. It was someone dressed up to look like her.” She drew a deep breath. “Someone who had carefully planned to kill her.”

Edward emitted a low whistle. In the distance, a siren wailed.

“The first part of the plan must have been to get into the house dressed as Avril,” Lexy said. “The impostor either had a key, and snuck in, or else barged past the real Avril when she answered the door. They must have known that Roderick Todd was going to be away last Friday, so it would have to be someone reasonably well acquainted with Avril.”

Lexy was aware of Edward staring at her so intensely that his eyes seemed about to leap from their sockets.

“Once inside,” she went on, “my guess is that Avril must have been overcome somehow and injected with the sedative that was found in her system at the post-mortem. The killer intended to take Avril to the field in Nudging and do away with her there, probably because they assumed she wouldn’t be found for a while.”

“Reckoned without you, then,” said Milo.

“What about the murder weapon?” said Edward.

Lexy thought back to what the old lady had seen at half past seven. “The impostor was carrying a tapestry bag just like Avril’s. Whatever it was must have been concealed in there, along with a change of clothing.”

“As we know,” she went on. “The Todds have an integral garage, so this impostor got the real Avril into the back of her Volvo, concealed her under a blanket or something, then shortly after, got the car out of the garage, still dressed as Avril, and went out. So it looked as if the real Avril Todd was going out at her usual time, alone.”

“It would certainly explain the mystery of how she’d been able to drive doped up to the eyeballs,” interjected Milo. “And, of course, as the impostor was leaving the house, you turned up, expecting to follow the real Avril.”

“And you turned up,” said Lexy, “intending to follow me.”

“Confused? Moi?” Edward moaned.

“Go on.” Milo threw a quick glance at Tristan, who had also given a moan.

“OK. The impostor must have known Avril might wake up, so they had to drive hell for leather to the field, get her out of the car, and dispatch her properly while she was still half asleep. That’s why Avril sounded so weak and confused,” said Lexy.

“And they used Avril’s own car as a getaway, and left it in a ditch where it could be easily found.” Milo supplied.

“Yes – it was a safe bet, because as Avril tended to use her car as an unpaid taxi for the am-dram, a jumble of DNA and prints would be all over it anyway.” Lexy spoke quickly, aware of the ambulance siren getting closer, her mind falling over itself. “I reckon this person changed from the Avril disguise into dark clothes, and walked back to Clopwolde cross-country.”

Milo nodded. “Of course. If they were used to walking and knew the path it would only have taken an hour or so.”

“And when they got back,” continued Lexy, “they slipped into the village hall and put the clothes and wig in an old trunk, intending to dispose of them properly later. Except Edward and I found them. Perhaps the murder weapon’s in there too.”

“What about the tapestry bag?” Edward chimed in.

Lexy gave a swift shrug. “I’m guessing the murderer left it at Avril’s house. If Roderick Todd is like most men, he’s not going to find it strange that his wife had two shopping bags. If he even notices.”

Tristan moaned again.

They heard the ambulance pull into the alleyway. Within minutes, Tristan was being loaded into the back, while Edward spoke to the paramedics.

“Yes – I was walking past and I heard a noise. I found him unconscious when I came in to investigate. The bone must have fallen off the wall and knocked him against the examination bench.”

Tristan opened his mouth soundlessly.

“Shouldn’t he be arrested, or something?” said Edward, as they watched the ambulance depart.

“He’ll keep. At the moment we’ve got bigger fish to fry.” Milo headed for the high street.

“Where are we going?” Edward asked.

“Gorse Rise. The vet’s place.”

Lexy felt herself going pale. “Do you know something we don’t?”

“Just a hunch.”

They sat in Milo’s estate car outside Guy Ellenger’s bungalow, silently watching.

Dusk was falling, and next door in Amalfi the curtains had been drawn. Every couple of minutes a feline shape swung on one or other of the drapes. They heard a sharp remonstration at one point, and a bulky figure loomed and disentangled the shape.

Guy Ellenger’s curtains were still open. They could see the vet pacing around his living room. Hope was sitting on a chair near the window.

“So – you think Guy did it?” Edward asked.

“I’m actually wondering if they did it between them, somehow,” Milo said.

“Only one of them is big enough to dress up as Avril.”

“Well – nevertheless, I want to get them both in for questioning. Although the vet’s not going to like it – especially as he’s just got back from the nick. He might prove a bit...evasive.”

“I know how to get round Guy’s the back way, if that’s any use,” Edward said. “In case there’s a problem.”

“Yes, all right – go for it. I’ll give you five minutes to get in place.”

Edward let himself out of the back and loped out of sight along Gorse Rise.

“Can you go and tell Tammy about her loser of a husband?” said Milo. “We’ll deal with Guy and Hope.”

“I can look after myself in a...” Lexy began, but Milo shushed her. His phone was ringing.

“It’s the station – better take it.” He flipped it open. “Milo.”

Lexy watched his face freeze into disbelief as he listened.

“OK.” He snapped it shut, gave her a helpless look.

“What?”

“Edward doesn’t have an alibi for Friday night.”

This was so not what Lexy wanted to hear.

“But he was at Lowestoft nick. After the scene at Peter’s shop.”

Milo shook his head. “That scene must have been during the afternoon – he was bailed by six o’clock, with no charges pressed. He had plenty of time to dress up as Avril, drive her out there and kill her. He had a good enough motive.”

“No!” Lexy tried to push aside the vision of Edward shredding his poison pen letter. The old stick leaning against the wall in his kitchen, the one that Nimrod the retriever used to chew. The way he had been offering to help her at every turn.

“I’m going to have to pull him in,” said Milo. He swore under his breath, tapped out another number on his phone.

“But he’s my friend,” whispered Lexy. “I trusted him.”

“Appearances can be deceptive.” Milo peered out into the dark road. “I’d better get out there or he’ll think something’s up. Go and tell Tammy about Tristan...”

“But...”

“... and stay there until the police arrive.”

“But...”

“Lexy – don’t argue. Just get out there and do it.”

Lexy let herself and Kinky out of the car. She watched Milo run quietly down Guy Ellenger’s drive, then opened the Caradocs’ gate, feeling sick at heart. Far away in the distance she heard a growl of thunder.

She pressed the bell.

“You’d better stay out here,” she told Kinky. Having met Princess Noo-Noo, he was happy to agree.

“Lexy! This is unexpected.”

Lexy stood awkwardly in the hallway of the Caradocs’ bungalow. Princess scampered lightly up to her, jumped against her leg, then shot off again.

“She’s gone totally scatty,” said Tammy, with a fond smile. “I thought she might be a bit more quiet and thoughtful after the weekend she’s had.” She paused. “You haven’t seen Tristan, have you? I’ve been trying to ring him, but his phone’s switched off.”

Lexy took a deep breath, forcing herself to concentrate and not think about what might be happening next door. “Actually, Tammy, he’s had to go to hospital – that’s what I came to tell you. But it’s nothing serious,” she added quickly, as the woman’s eyes widened in shock. “Just a knock on the head.”

“Knock on the head? How?”

“He was in the vet’s surgery. You know that big bone on the wall?”

The other woman nodded. She had gone completely still.

“It fell off, hit him on the head and he knocked himself out on the edge of the treatment bench.”

Tammy broke out into a storm of laughter.

Lexy gave a faint smile. Tammy must be one of those people who have a nervous reaction to bad news. The sort who burst out into giggles when they hear someone’s died. Either that or she appreciates irony, said an unbidden voice in her head.

She shot a glance at Tammy, and wished she hadn’t.

It was the latter.

Tammy was laughing because Tristan had been hit on the head with the very weapon that had killed Avril.

And now Tammy knew Lexy knew.

“Would you like a lift to the hospital?” said Lexy, pleasantly.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Up close, Tammy was large. About the same size as Avril, in fact.

“You know, Tristan was about to run away with that trollop, Sheri-Anne.” Tammy leaned her wide behind on the wall, as if settling in for a comfortable chat.

“Really?” said Lexy, trying to sound concerned. It wasn’t difficult.

“Yes. Not that I gave a toss about that. What really made me see red was the fact that they were taking my cat with them.” Her eyes hardened. “I only found out this afternoon, when I discovered the passports in his jacket pocket. One for him, one for Sheri-Anne, and one for Princess. After all I’d done for the bastard.”

She turned to a picture of Tristan on the wall. The one of him dressed as Margaret Thatcher, in the tight-fitting blue number.

“When I discovered Avril was blackmailing Tristan, I thought it was because of his pathetic little affair with Sheri-Anne. I had no idea about all this cat business until you told me this afternoon.” She petted Princess, now draped around her neck. “He was giving Avril a large amount of money every month. I was almost flattered to think he would pay that much to keep me from being hurt. But I couldn’t have him throwing away our life savings.” She gave a sudden harsh laugh. “Put me in a bit of a dilemma. I didn’t want to tell him that I knew. Because if he knew I had found out about the affair, things could never be the same again between us.” She looked sadly at Lexy. “I just wanted everything to be like it always had been. When we were young and beautiful. Eternity was in our lips and eyes, bliss in our brows.” Her mouth set. “So I came up with a plan to put Avril out of the picture.”

“Ah,” said Lexy.

Tammy sighed. “It took some careful planning, but it went like a dream on the night. It was Tristan’s ghost walk evening, so I knew he’d be out of the way. He always leaves the house early so that he can get a pint in first. As soon as he left, I nipped down to the village hall the back way via the vet’s surgery, with my walking gear in a tapestry bag just like Avril’s.”

Lexy nodded to herself, but the fact that she had guessed right was no comfort at that moment.

“I disguised myself as her, then I walked quickly around the corner and up Windmill Hill.” Tammy paused. “That was the risky part – I was praying I didn’t run into any of her neighbours.”

Lexy wondered how worried Tammy would have been if she knew she’d been spotted by one of them. “How did you know Avril would be at home?” she asked.

“Because I called her earlier. Part of the plan. Said I wanted to speak to her about an am-dram matter. She told me to get there before eight as she was going out.”

Tammy smiled. “When she answered the door, I knocked her out with a little whiff of chloroform from the surgery, and gave her a shot of sedative to keep her from struggling. Then I got her into the Volvo, drove her to the field, and...” She gave a wry shrug. “I thought I was so clever using that dog bone as a murder weapon.” She paused, frowning. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to find her for days, not right out there. I dumped the car, changed into my walking gear, got back to Clopwolde and hid the clothes in the old trunk”

“Then you took the bone back to the surgery the following morning, inside the rolls of canvas for Hope,” Lexy supplied.

Tammy gave her a nasty smile. “And your bastard little mutt could smell it, couldn’t he? Anyway, despite running into you at just the wrong moment, I thought I’d got away with it. The body was found a little sooner than I would have wanted, but I saw Tristan’s look of relief when Maurice from the am-dram called to tell him Avril was dead, and it was all worth it.” She reached up a plump hand to stroke Princess. “My only problem then,” she went on, “was the loss of my poor Noo-Noo. I knew that someone must have stolen her, but I’d never have dreamed it was my own husband.” She stared bitterly at the photo of Tristan again, then turned to face Lexy.

“When you brought Princess back today I thought my life was complete, especially when we found out her... circumstances.” She caressed the cat again fondly. “It was my reward for rescuing her in the first place. I went straight down to the travel agents and booked a cruise.”

Then her face hardened. “Then I came back here and found the passports. The ones I wasn’t meant to see.”

Lexy shifted uncomfortably.

“Tristan had gone out – said he’d gone to the pub. I went to have it out with him. But when I got to the high street, I saw him coming out of the village hall, very furtively, with Sheri-Anne.” She drew a deep breath. “And I saw Sheri-Anne go back inside. I thought that perhaps I’d have it out with her instead. So I sneaked in after her.”

Lexy swallowed.

“She was in the locker room. She didn’t even see me come in. I picked up a coconut and cracked her on the head. She collapsed immediately. Stone dead. I’m rather good at that. I picked her up – she was as light as a feather, the little bitch – and I put her...”

“Don’t tell me,” said Lexy, quietly. “You put her in the old trunk in the wardrobe room, a few layers down, underneath your Avril disguise.”

“How did you...?”

“Just a lucky guess.” That’s why Kinky had been whining. Sheri-Anne must have still been warm when Lexy opened the trunk.

“Tammy – we need to make a phone call.”

“I’m afraid not.”

Lexy backed towards the door.

“You see – now that Princess has her own little passport, I thought that she and I might go for a journey. Seeing as Tristan and Sheri-Anne aren’t going any more.”

Especially Sheri-Anne.

“I booked the flight when I got back this evening.” Tammy looked at her watch. “In fact, we really should get going. I was going to wait until Tristan got home, and make sure he didn’t go anywhere else for a while. But it looks as if fate has already arranged that for me.” She gave a short, manic laugh, dislodging Princess. The cat ran up the stairs. “So, I suppose all I have to do now is make sure that you don’t talk.”

Tammy bent into the alcove where the boots and coats were kept, and selected a stout walking stick. Lexy immediately groped for the door handle and managed to pull it half open.

“Oh, no you don’t.”

Lexy ducked. The stick smashed against the thick glass panel, shattering it, and slamming the door shut again – but not in time to stop a chihuahua dodging in.

Tammy let out a scream of pain. Kinky had fastened himself to her ankle. She raised the stick again.

A second later, the door was kicked open from the outside so hard that Lexy was knocked sprawling. Edward leapt over her and brought Tammy to the ground in a flying rugby tackle. They rolled about on the carpet among the broken glass. There were shouts and curses. But Lexy barely noticed. It just seemed like something unimportant playing in the background.

Before Tammy had been overcome, her last blow had landed on Kinky.

Lexy dragged herself into a kneeling position, shook him incredulously.

“Wake up, pal.” It seemed such a daft thing to say. She even gave a half-laugh. “You’d better not be winding me up here, Kinks.”

Then she saw the blood soaking into the carpet underneath him.

“F...!” Lexy scrambled up.

Edward and Tammy froze in a horrible parody of the missionary position.

Lexy stooped, grabbed up the bloodied walking stick and advanced on them. “Out of the way, Edward.”

Edward landed Tammy a punch in the throat, jumped up and wrestled the stick from Lexy’s hand.

“Not the answer, sweetie,” he panted, standing over the coughing woman.

Princess sat at the top of the stairs, looking, for once, grave.

Lexy turned back to the small caramel-coloured body on the floor. She bent and scooped the dog up, cradling him to her chest, and stepped awkwardly over the ruins of the door. She ran up the gravel drive, feeling Kinky’s limp body thud gently against her at each step. She barely noticed that Milo’s car was empty.

Within a minute Lexy was hammering at the vet’s door.

Guy Ellenger pulled it open, frowning in surprise.

Mutely, she offered Kinky, his head lolling.

The vet took the dog, lay him on the hall floor, kneeling over him. “What happened?”

Lexy choked out the explanation.

Guy Ellenger’s hands ran gently over Kinky. He gave Lexy a quick, serious glance.

“I’m sorry...”

Hope was now standing behind Guy, looking dopey but concerned.

Lexy felt herself backing away. “I have to go... I can’t...”

She turned and ran blindly out of the drive, down Gorse Rise towards the high street, fighting an urge to drop to her knees on the roadside and curl up.

A minute later she heard footsteps running behind her. She sped up. “Lexy – it’s me. Hey – stop, will you.” Milo grabbed her arm, spun her around, and steadied her. “What’s going on? I can’t find Edward anywhere.”

“Edward’s not the murderer. He saved me. He’s in with her now.”

“Her?” Milo bent his lanky frame to catch his breath.

“Tammy Caradoc. She killed Sheri-Anne too. Put her in a trunk in the village hall.”

Milo closed his eyes. “How did you...?”

“Edward will tell you.”

“Where are you going now?”

“Home.”

“You can’t. CID are on their way,” said Milo.

“And that’s a good thing?” Lexy carried on towards the high street.

“You can’t just walk away. They’ll need a statement for a start.”

“How’s this for a statement?” Lexy found she was shouting uncontrollably. “My dog’s been killed.”

Lexy walked up Cliff Lane, through the silent heath. The air was thick enough to slice and the track was only just visible in the last light of dusk. Another rumble of thunder sounded, much closer this time. She was less than halfway when a squall blew up, swatting her face with fat raindrops.

Within five minutes the storm was upon her. Lexy was soaked through, her short hair flattened to her skull. The sky was livid with forked lightning, and the whole landscape seemed to be raging with her at the injustice of life.

It became a vast struggle to climb the last stretch of road to the cabin. Trees, silhouetted in the lightning flashes, bent like limbo dancers under the force of the wind. She ploughed, head down, through the last hundred metres, then raised her dripping face and rubbed her eyes.

The cabin wasn’t there.

“Sh...!” Lexy ran forward, stumbling over pieces of broken wood, debris and clods of torn-up earth. The entire building had slid back several yards, the veranda ripped from the ground, broken struts like a row of drunks on a tightrope.

Lexy clambered frantically up to the warped front door, a single thought in her mind.

She kicked the door open and groped for the light switch. By some miracle it was still connected. The living room sloped at a crazy angle, the chintz sofa and sideboard both slammed up against the far wall along with everything else that wasn’t screwed down.

The whole place was slipping down the cliff.

Lexy crept along the hall, trying not to listen to the tortured creaks coming from the very fabric of Otter’s End.

The bedroom had already begun to split away from the rest of the cabin, setting off on its final journey. Rain splashed through a jagged hole in the roof. The bed was jammed on its side against the far wall, and under it was wedged the suitcase.

“Bollocks!”

Holding on to the door frame with one hand, Lexy slid on her backside down the soaking carpet until she was leaning against the bed. She tried to move it with her feet and legs, but it refused to budge.

She flinched at a particularly loud squeal of protest from the cabin. With an ear-splitting crack, the back edge of the bedroom split open. The bed itself slowly turned over and crashed out of the cabin, then bounced absurdly out of sight down the dark cliff.

It was so nearly followed by the suitcase.

Lexy, lying on her back with one hand still clinging to the door frame, had wrapped her legs around it. She lay helpless for a few seconds, gathering what remained of her strength, then gripping the suitcase handle for dear life with her free hand, she began to inch backwards up towards the door. Her arm nearly ripped out of its socket.

With a muscle-wrenching effort she gained the bedroom doorway, and dragged the suitcase up the buckled hall floor. But just as she reached the living room door, a massive clap of thunder shook the cabin, and she began to slide slowly back as the entire back half of Otter’s End disintegrated.

She gave an almighty yell, seized the suitcase with both hands and hurled it through the door into the sloping but still intact living room.

It shot back towards her, then took a lucky bounce and came to rest hard behind the door. The lid swung open and the bank notes burst out like a flock of startled pigeons.

Her hands now free, Lexy pulled herself into the living room. She shoved the door closed on the dark vista of open cliff and sea, and crouched on the slope trying to grab at the notes and stuff them back into the suitcase.

The sound of splitting wood made her look up, alarmed, from her crab-like pose. The front door burst open, creating a whirling through-draft, and the bank notes flurried even more furiously through the air. A figure balanced on the threshold.

“Shut the bloody door!” she bawled. “And help me!”

Milo stretched out a hand towards her.

“No, you idiot – get the money.” She plucked a handful of fifties from the air.

“Where did this come from?” Even in this situation, Milo was acting the cop. He reached out a hand to grasp at a passing note.

“I stole it,” Lexy yelled. “All right?”

Milo dropped the note as if it were a poisonous snake. It whirled up in a sudden gust, and stuck to his wet face.

Lexy gave a wild bark of laughter. He peeled the note from his cheek, and stared at it.

“Help me get them back. They’re not mine,” she yelled again.

“No way – we need to get out of here. It’s about to go. Give me your hand.”

“I’m not going anywhere without this money,” Lexy bellowed.

The two of them frantically collected as many notes as they could and stuffed them back into the suitcase, then Lexy scrambled out of the remains of her front door, and Milo, holding the suitcase to his chest, clambered out straight after. They ran for cover just as the remains of Otter’s End collapsed and tumbled down the cliff face towards the beach.

“Edward warned me this might happen,” Lexy remarked, with dangerous calm.

“Get in my car,” said Milo.

“Seats’ll get wet.” Lexy looked down at her soaking jeans.

“Doesn’t matter. Get in.”

Lexy slung the suitcase in the back, and slumped into the passenger seat.

The detective jumped in beside her, shut the door, and turned to her.

“I’m sorry about Kinky,” he said.

Lexy was glad that Milo had called Kinky by his name. Even if it was a stupid one.

She blinked rapidly.

“OK. Now, what’s the story with that?” He jerked his head back at the suitcase with its soggy cargo.

Lexy contemplated the money. The reason for all her problems. The reason she was homeless, dogless and alone.

“Since you ask, my arsehole husband recently stole a previously undiscovered Lowry painting and sold it on the black market.”

“Oh, God,” moaned Milo.

“He was doing a valuation for a house clearance after an old man died. The man – Gillespie was his name – had left instructions that all the proceeds of the clearance sale were to go to charity. Gerard found the Lowry in the loft, among a load of ordinary, low-value paintings. Identified it immediately. He must have thought his ship had come in.” Her eyes hardened. “He donated five hundred quid to English Heritage – his idea of irony – and sold the Lowry to a dealer for half a million. Cash. When I discovered that he’d taken the proceeds and stashed them in his safe, probably to provide himself with a tax-free pension, I took the money myself.” She looked steadily at the detective. “I’m going to give an anonymous donation to the bird sanctuary down the road. I’ve heard there’s a pair of warblers that could do with some help.”

Milo regarded her for a long moment.

“You are a rather remarkable person,” he stated softly.

“So you’ve decided to move on?”

Lexy and Guy Ellenger were sitting at a wooden picnic table outside a fisherman’s hut. Four chihuahuas frolicked in a rough patch of grass nearby. Lexy watched them pensively.

“Thought it would be for the best,” said Guy. “Start a new life in the Yorkshire Dales, take on some fresh challenges, expand into cattle and sheep, that kind of thing.”

“You’re starting to sound like James Herriot already.” Lexy kicked at the sandy soil beneath her feet.

“I’ll miss Clopwolde, obviously.” Guy smoothed out a sheet of paper in front of him, not looking at her. “But I thought it would be best to get Hope into a completely new environment.” His voice dropped. “How much did she tell you, by the way? That evening when you were at her place?”

“Not much.” Lexy attempted a shrug.

“Everything, then?”

She nodded.

“I thought she must have done. Explains a few things.” He glanced swiftly at Lexy. “You’re the only other person who knows. Avril Todd just took a wild guess about the way our father died, but it was obviously close enough to send Hope over the edge. As soon as you told me that Avril had been killed I thought Hope had done it. She’d been acting so strangely lately. That’s why I called her straight off and told her to say she was at the surgery with me on Friday night if anyone asked. Gut reaction. I’d got so used to protecting her.”

“Protecting her?”

Guy Ellenger gave her a complicated look.

“Listen – I would never have gone through with that false alibi if Hope had really murdered Avril.” He paused. “I mean, an eight-year-old kid pushing a vicious drunk down the stairs on the spur of the moment is one thing, but an adult murdering someone in cold blood... Believe me, I do appreciate the difference.”

“Hang on – I thought you were ten when you did it?”

He gave her a curious look. “Is that what she told you? That I did it?”

Lexy nodded.

“And you believed her?”

Lexy stared out across the flat, watercolour Suffolk landscape without answering him. She might have known that a brilliant vet who looked like God’s gift to women and could cook and multi-task couldn’t possibly have a dark side. And now he was moving to the Yorkshire bloody Dales.

Guy pushed the sheet of paper towards her. “My new address and phone number, in case you ever happen to be in the area.”

“Thanks.” She pocketed it. He’d have a wife before the year was out. Northern women weren’t daft. “You know where I’ll be.”

They looked up at the sturdy wooden hut behind them, built on high stilts in the old Suffolk tradition. “Edward was using it for a beach hut, would you believe.”

A few yards away a slow-running river meandered past on its way to the sea. The sea itself was a good five-minute walk away over a high shingle bank. Lexy had made sure of that – one cabin sailing off into the sunset was enough. A distant view of the sea from the front window was enough for her. From the back she could look out over an endlessly changing vista of reed beds and water meadows.

It was a good base for a private investigation business. Plenty of opportunity for uninterrupted thinking.

They watched as a white estate car rolled slowly along the rough stone path towards the hut and pulled up outside. The door slammed.

“Look out,” said Lexy. “It’s Robocop.”

DI Milo removed his shades and gave Lexy a weary glance.

He had been reinstated. Mitigating circumstances. Lexy privately reckoned that as no one could stop Milo being a policeman, the chief constable thought it would probably be simpler to give his warrant card back.

He took a seat, fitting his legs with some difficulty under the picnic table.

“Is that another one for frappé and profiteroles?” Edward’s face appeared at an open window above them, Peter beside him.

“Just a tea, thanks.”

“Philistine...” The faces withdrew.

Milo raised a querying eyebrow at Lexy.

“We’re having morning coffee,” Lexy explained. “Edward likes to do things properly. According to him, tea is an afternoon drink.”

“Not for me, it isn’t,” said the detective.

Before long they were all seated around an elaborate tray of coffee and pastries.

Milo took an awkward sip from a bone china teacup with pink rosebuds on it.

“How’s business?”

“Quiet,” admitted Lexy. “But I only moved in last night.”

“Didn’t stop you last time.”

“Don’t remind me. On my first morning in Otter’s End I’d agreed to follow a cheating wife and find a lost cat before I’d so much as unpacked my toothbrush.”

“And neither of those cases turned out quite the way you expected.” Guy gave her a rueful smile.

“It certainly took me a while to work out that they were linked. I just wish I’d got on to Tammy earlier. But it could have been a lot worse. I’m really grateful that Edward got to Tammy before she got to me.”

“Think nothing of it, sweetie,” said Edward. “It was just fortunate that I spotted Kinky in the Caradocs’ front garden while I was...” He hesitated; they hadn’t told Guy about DI Milo’s intention to haul him off to the police station again that evening. “Anyway, I thought the little mutt had given you the slip. I pinned him down on the front door mat and that’s when I overheard good old Tammy giving you chapter and verse inside. Couldn’t believe my shell-likes.”

“I was grappling with reality myself,” said Lexy. She glanced at Milo. The two of them had also kept quiet about their last-minute suspicions concerning Edward.

“Thanks to you I was becoming something of an expert at breaking down doors by that point,” Edward continued.

“Odd, that. It’s not as if you’re usually the violent type,” Peter remarked, dryly. “Except where my Clarice Cliff collection is concerned.”

“What happened to Tristan after Tammy was arrested?” Guy interjected.

Lexy shrugged. “He got discharged from hospital and he’s recovering at a relative’s house in the west country. Don’t think he’s intending to return to Clopwolde.”

“Is he facing any charges?”

Lexy glanced at Milo. “No – when all’s said and done, he didn’t actually commit any crimes. He was just having a mid-life crisis extraordinaire. He couldn’t really be done for stealing his own cat. Or having a fling with an eighteen year old.”

Guy snorted. “He threatened you with a syringe-full of pet tranquilliser.”

“I agreed not to take that any further,” said Lexy. “He’s got enough problems, what with his wife on a charge of double murder. Anyway, he did give me a nice present before he left Clopwolde.”

“Yes – we need talk about that, lovie,” Edward cut in. “That animal is destroying my ancestral home. You should see my Liberty drapes. Ruined.” He selected a cinnamon pastry.

“Well, I can’t keep her here,” said Lexy, reasonably. “Anyway – I’ve seen the way she and you look at each other. When she’s wrapped around your neck.”

“She won’t be able to do that for much longer – she’ll be far too fat. In fact, she’s already trying to find somewhere suitable for a nest. I’m just hoping it won’t be my Louis XIV armoire.”

“Do cats nest?” enquired Milo.

“Suffolk Rexes do,” Edward informed him knowledgeably.

“Are you going to keep any of the kittens?” Milo asked Lexy.

Edward replied before she could. “With a horde of American cat-fanciers in a bidding war over them? I don’t think so, dear. Lexy’s got to pay me rent for this place somehow or other, and that’s before we even think about the Liberty drapes. To say nothing of my washed silk Chinese rug, which looks like a big pile of hamster bedding now. Pets, eh? More trouble than they’re worth.”

“He won’t let me sell the kittens,” Lexy said in a stage whisper to the others.

Edward sipped his coffee primly, then suddenly choked. A solid white bird had emerged from a mound of reeds beside the river and stood several yards away, glaring at them.

“Bit close for comfort,” remarked Peter.

“Yes – I don’t like the look of that beak. Shoo.” Edward made an ineffectual flapping motion with a napkin.

The group of chihuahuas surged forward, with shrill barks.

Guy banged on the table.

“Chico, Gomez... come here NOW! All of you.”

The dogs rushed as one towards the swan.

It stretched up, beat its massive wings and hissed like a punctured tractor tyre. Everyone immediately struggled to get free of the picnic bench. Coffee cups and pastries rolled in all directions. The four chihuahuas scattered.

Evidently pleased with this effect, the swan took a ponderous step towards them.

Lexy glanced back towards the hut. “Can someone shut the...”

But it was too late.

A fifth chihuahua had appeared.

He was so heavily bandaged that he appeared to be part dog, part mummy. But that didn’t stop him limping with astonishing rapidity from the hut doorway, straight at the swan, growling like a miniature Harley Davidson.

“Oh, crap,” said Lexy.