“I was sleeping,” Basil said, picking up the remains of the sandwich. “It’s my day off, and I like to sleep late.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Cecily felt a pang of guilt for disturbing the young man’s rest. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”

“I don’t know what I can tell that I didn’t tell the bobby,” Basil said, tilting his head at the couch as signal for them to sit.

Cecily lowered herself gingerly on the edge of it, while Samuel contented himself with leaning against the fireplace. “I understand you were good friends with Jimmy Taylor,” she said, doing her best to smile.

“Used to be, yeah.” Basil hunched his shoulders. “Until he stole my girl. We was enemies after that.” He coughed, and added quickly, “I wasn’t the one what threw that rock at him, though. I swear it. I’ll admit, I didn’t like the bloke. We had a big scrap over Gracie. It was Jimmy what started it, though. I only finished it. I never went near him after that.” He swiped his thumb in a cross on his chest, almost losing his blanket in the process. “I swear on the Bible I didn’t.”

He sounded sincere, and Cecily was inclined to believe him. “Do you remember where you were the day Jimmy died?”

“I was working, wasn’t I. In the paper factory in Wellercombe. Twelve hours a day, hauling bloody big bundles of paper into the warehouse.”

“It sounds like hard work.”

“Yeah, it is. I hate the job.” Basil dragged the slipping blanket closer over his shoulders. “I used to work on a farm, and I liked that a lot, but I can’t get jobs on a farm no more. That’s why I’m stuck doing factory work.”

“It must have made it difficult for you to spend time with Gracie,” Cecily said, digging her freezing hands deeper into her muff.

Basil gave her a sharp look. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, I was just wondering if that’s why Gracie chose Jimmy, because you didn’t have much time to spend with her.”