And there was a dog. That, or Skirmish had a taste for Pal Meaty Chunks in Gravy, and I didn’t think his quiet life had been quite that desperate.

I called Lesley on her mobile.

‘Are you near a HOLMES terminal?’ I asked.

‘I haven’t left the bloody thing since I got here,’ said Lesley. ‘They’ve had me on data entry and bloody statement verification.’

‘Really,’ I said, trying not to gloat. ‘Guess where I am?’

‘You’re at Skirmish’s flat in Dartmouth bloody Park,’ she said.

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I can hear DCI Seawoll yelling about it right through his office wall,’ she said. ‘Who’s Inspector Nightingale?’

I glanced at Nightingale, who was looking at me impatiently. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ I said. ‘Can you check something for us?’

‘Sure,’ said Lesley. ‘What is it?’

‘When the Murder Team tossed the flat, did they find a dog?’

I heard her tapping away as she did a text search on the relevant files. ‘No mention of a dog in the report.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘You’ve made a valuable contribution.’

‘You’re so buying the drinks tonight,’ she said and hung up.

I told Nightingale about the absence of dog.

‘Let’s go and find a nosy neighbour,’ said Nightingale. He’d obviously seen the face in the window too.

Beside the front door an intercom system had been retrofitted above the doorbells. Nightingale barely had time to press the button before the lock buzzed open and a voice said, ‘Come on up, dear.’ There was another buzz and the inner door opened, behind a dusty but otherwise clean staircase that led upwards, and as we started up we heard a small yappy dog start barking.