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to Rainbow Cottage and Temple Sowerby only by the track through the field that he’d taken to reach them. The only alternative was across the open fields, or on foot via the track. ‘Did you see any other vehicle?’

She shook her head.

‘Was there anyone else on the path?’

‘No.’ It was Claud, this time. ‘I was looking out for Nat, because she was a little later than I was expecting. You can see where it happened from the window. I saw the white car but I didn’t see another, though it could have left before I started looking. But if anyone had come past on the track I would have seen them.’

‘And I didn’t have my phone,’ said Natalie, like a child repeating a lesson. ‘So I ran home and told Claud and he called the police.’

‘What time was that?’ Jude looked to Claud.

‘Just after two.’

Jude’s eye was drawn to the thick rubber bracelet on Natalie’s fragile wrist. ‘Your running route will be on your fitness tracker, I take it?’

‘Yes.’ She looked alarmed. ‘Surely you don’t think I—?’

‘No.’ Jude turned away from the look of outrage that Claud directed at him. ‘The injuries were very recent. When you found the body it can’t have been long since he was attacked. If we can pin down exactly what time you found him, then that narrows the window for the time of the murder. That’s all.’

‘Oh, of course. I won’t have to give you the tracker, though? I’m a bit obsessive about it.’ Her wide, pale eyes regarded him with a touch of concern. ‘It’s my anxiety. I like routine.’

‘We can get you another tracker, sweetheart.’ Claud’s tone oozed endless patience

‘But Claud, then I wouldn’t be able to tally up and—’

‘You can download the data, I imagine?’ In fascination, Jude observed the signs of Natalie’s anxiety, watched her fingers tapping relentlessly on the black rubber strap, the wrinkling of her brow, the snatched glances at Claud as if to reassure herself that he’d help her.

‘Yes.’ The news delighted her, and she relaxed. ‘It’ll tell you where I was and when. It’ll tell you how long I stopped for, and where. You’ll know everything, won’t you? That’ll help.’

‘Yes, that’s a great help.’ Aware that he had a dozen other things to deal with before the opening phase of the investigation was complete, Jude set his half-finished cup of coffee down on the table, closed his notebook and clipped his pen into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘Thanks again for your time. I know how distressing it must have been. I’ll get this typed up and send someone back with it for you to sign.’

‘Thank you.’ Natalie stood, with what seemed to be characteristic poise, and Claud bounced to his feet in an altogether more pugnacious manner.

‘Will you be all right?’ Jude shot a look out through the window. It was impossible to miss the frantic activity that was taking place in the lane.

‘It’s fine.’ Claud guided him out of the door. ‘Nat, why don’t you run off and have a lie down, now. You’ll feel better after that.’ Then he leaned in towards Jude, sharing a confidence. ‘She can get a bit frail sometimes, but it’s nothing serious. Just highly strung. But nothing I can’t handle.’

‘If you think of anything else, let me know.’ Jude had intended to address himself to Natalie, but she’d already ghosted her way off through the house so he was left to deal with Claud, who seemed accustomed to dealing as his wife’s gatekeeper. ‘Here’s my card. You can call me at any time.’

Claud took the card, looked at it, turned it over in his fingers and laid it on the hall table. ‘Yes, of course. Thanks for being so understanding with Nat. And good luck with your search.’

As if he was looking for a long-lost relative, Jude thought as he stepped out into the lane, not a vicious killer who’d almost certainly disappeared into the anonymous traffic of the A66 and could by now have made it south to the spaghetti of the urban motorway network or east to the M1. He took a long look at the line of cars and lorries building up along the main road.

Or the killer could have gone as little as a few hundred yards, to hide in plain sight.

Chapter 2

Monday morning. Anything but fresh from a holiday that had overrun into a cancelled flight, a sleepless night at the airport in Dubai and an eventual arrival at Manchester airport in the small hours of the morning, Ashleigh O’Halloran staggered into the police headquarters in Penrith on the back of a monumental misjudgement. Jet lag was a brute at the best of times, bestowing all the privations of a hangover with none of the fun that might have preceded it. She should have called in with an explanation and come in after lunch, with a few hours’ sleep to see her through. She could have made up the time later and Jude would have understood.

He’d have understood; but because he was her partner she daren’t put him in that position. Another boss might reasonably have been less sympathetic than Jude always was but she couldn’t afford any accusations that he might be treating her favourably. They’d be unjust, because his attitude to her in the workplace was so strait-laced compared to the way he behaved outside it that it was almost schizophrenic, but so it was.

She yawned as she signed in at reception. Ten minutes early, just enough time to track down the strongest shot of caffeine in the building. Turning towards the canteen where she normally turned straight to the office, she ran straight into her past and her present lovers, deep in conversation outside it.

‘Jesus!’ It was an uncharacteristic loss of composure. Both surprised and amused Jude lifted an eyebrow at her,

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