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when Duncan jogged up Challows Lane, the killer headed down Weavern Lane and lay in wait around one of those many corners on Ham Lane.”

“If he was the killer, guv, then it’s a possibility,” agreed Alex.

“Banks and Tallentire didn’t place anyone else in the frame, did they?” said Gus.

“True, and they made zero headway trying to find anyone to provide an accurate description of that one man or his car.”

“I wonder where the landowner lives. The lady who phoned in the initial report,” said Gus. “I can see the attraction of an evening hack along the lanes, but I haven’t seen a country pile worthy of the double-barrelled name as yet.”

“Davinia Campbell-Drake, known as Bunny to her friends, you mean, guv?”

“That will be milady to the likes of you and me, Alex. Remember to tug your forelock when we invite her for an interview.”

“A proper invitation, guv?” grinned Alex. “You don’t plan on bombing up her driveway with lights and sirens blazing a la Gene Hunt, then?”

“Gene who, Alex?”

“It doesn’t matter, guv. Have you seen enough for today?”

“I think so, Alex. Let’s get back and see what Luke has arranged for tomorrow.”

Alex drove out of Biddestone and headed back to the Old Police Station office.

The whiteboards were full of the usual maps, crime scene photos, and brief biographies of the victim and their known contacts.

Gus sighed as he noticed how sparse the room looked compared to several of their earlier cases. Kenneth Truelove hadn’t given them much to work with, that was certain.

“I put the information you asked for on your desk, guv,” said Luke.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Did the walking tour offer any hidden gems, guv?” asked Lydia Logan Barre.

“Not really, Lydia,” said Gus. “I now know where the victim died. The killer chose a spot as far from civilisation as it was possible to get within the Biddestone parish boundaries. The odds against someone disturbing him were huge. If Davinia Campbell-Drake was a creature of habit, like Alan Duncan, the killer did their homework and knew when she was due to trot along the lane. The murder was well-planned and executed.”

“Might that suggest we’re dealing with a professional, guv?” asked Blessing Umeh.

“A hit, do you mean, Blessing?” asked Neil Davis. “That came out of nowhere. Why would someone put out a contract on a man with no known enemies?”

“If it were a crime of passion, it wouldn’t have been so efficient,” said Blessing. “Maybe I’m wrong. Or maybe we’re wrong. Alan Duncan had enemies, but the original investigation didn’t find them.”

“It doesn’t feel like a crime of passion, Neil,” said Luke. “Although, strangulation isn’t what I’d expect if it was a contract hit.”

“Forensics didn’t find any fingerprints on the victim,” said Blessing, referring to the murder file. “That suggests they wore gloves. How often do you wear gloves in May, Neil?”

“Fair point, Blessing,” said Neil.

“The eight and a half thousand pounds in cash,” said Gus. “What was that about?”

“We need more information, guv,” said Alex.

“Luke, can you check something for me, please? Did Wayne Phillips wear glasses?”

“I’ll get right on it, guv?” said Luke.

Gus ran his finger down the page of names and potential interviews. Madeleine Telfer was available tomorrow morning from nine-thirty after she returned from the school run.

Bob and Elizabeth Duncan would be at home tomorrow and Thursday.

“Are the Duncan’s out for the day on Wednesday, Luke?” asked Gus.

“No guv, Bob Duncan told me that Elizabeth struggles to get out of bed on a Wednesday. Even after ten years, the day is inextricably linked to the death of their only child. Since he retired, Alan’s father has written Wednesdays off as far as doing anything other than comfort his wife.”

“I’ll drop over to see them tomorrow afternoon,” said Gus.

“Wayne Phillips and his wife are free mid-morning on Wednesday, guv,” said Luke. “He’s got an appointment with his dental hygienist first thing. As for his eyesight, he wears contact lenses throughout the day, whatever he’s doing. Wayne was adamant that he wore them that Saturday afternoon on the cycle run.”

“Right, thanks, Luke. That clears that up,” said Gus. “Lydia, I’d like you to come with me tomorrow morning when we speak to Madeleine Telfer in Chippenham. Blessing, I want you with me in the afternoon when we visit Corsham and the victim’s parents.

“Okay, guv,” chorused Lydia and Blessing.

“Who do you want to handle the Phillips’s, guv?” asked Luke.

“Alex and Lydia, I think. You know what to do Lydia, get the wife into the kitchen, while Alex grills the husband in the living room. Don’t worry, Luke, you and Neil haven’t been put on the naughty step. You two can handle people at the firm where Alan Duncan worked. I don’t know if it will help, but fix up a meeting with whoever’s in charge of that call centre where Madeleine Mills worked for so long too.”

“Got it, guv,” came the reply.

“Anything else, guv,” asked Neil.

“Kenneth Truelove glossed over what Phil Banks and Connor Tallentire are doing these days,” said Gus. “Except to say they’re working at different ends of the country. Chase them and get them to pass on any background they can remember that might have escaped the murder file we received. There’s no need to visit them.”

“That’s plenty to be going on with, guv,” said Neil. “Who’s picking up the eyewitnesses?”

“Alex and Lydia can get in contact with them by phone when they return to the office.. We’re double-checking what they said they saw back in 2008. Ten years is a long time. We might have to remind them what we’re asking about.”

“What about the horse rider, guv?” asked Neil.

“If you’ve got five minutes, Neil, look her up in Burke’s Peerage,” said Alex.

“Posh, then, and having oodles of money,” said Neil.

“The

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