All the relevant activities could’ve been done there with considerable comfort, but it didn’t look as if much of anything had gone on for some time. There was a layer of dust over a lot of the surfaces: a trained observer might have detected more; as for me, I’d say the odd person or two had had a snack and a drink and a wash of the hands lately. The toilet had been used, too. The power and water were on and the phone was connected; there was food in the cupboards and more plus beer and wine in the refrigerator. Like all snoopers, we began by creeping and ended by stamping our feet. We didn’t say anything because there was nothing to say. Re-grouped at the back door, we looked to Frank for leadership.

‘Let’s try the garage,’ he said.

‘Funny,’ I whispered. ‘That’s what I was going to say.’

The driver looked enquiringly at Frank again; with a different superior he might’ve got a chance to practise his kung-fu, but Frank was used to me. He closed his eyes and mimed counting to ten. ‘Cliff,’ he said. ‘I wish I could have you on the force, with me out-ranking you, just for a little while.’

We were walking towards the garage. ‘What would you do, Frank?’

He stopped and looked back at the house. ‘Right now, I’d send you to look up in the roof and down into the foundations.’

‘Messy,’ I said. ‘Let’s hope we find the money and the bodies and the confessions in the garage.’

The driver was an artist-the roller-door came up just like it does in the commercials and we stepped into a space big enough to hold three cars and light enough to play table tennis in. But there were no cars and no table tennis table-instead, there were a couple of benches covered with jars and retorts and plumbed for hot and cold water. There were bottles and brushes and magnifying glasses and a microscope. There were powders and pastes, tubes of goo and glass plates with metal clamps. I followed Parker as he ranged along the nearest bench; the biggest bottle had a screw top and Parker spun it off.