'I'm sorry, Victor,' said Colbeck. 'I need you to come with me.'

'Where?'

'To retrieve some stolen property. While you were away, we had an interesting development in the case.' He eased the sergeant to his feet. 'Come on – I'll tell you about it on the way.'

Leeming blenched. 'Not another train journey?'

'Two of them, I'm afraid.'

The Red Rose was moored in the canal basin. Micah Triggs sat on the bulwark of his barge and puffed contentedly on his pipe. Well into his seventies, he had a weather-beaten face and a shrunken body but he remained unduly spry for his age. Curled up in his lap, basking in the afternoon sunshine, was a mangy black cat. When he saw three figures walking towards him along the towpath, Micah stood up suddenly and catapulted the animal on to the deck. With a squeal of protest, the cat took refuge beneath the sail.

'Mr Triggs?' asked Colbeck as they got near. 'Mr Micah Triggs?'

'The same,' grunted the old man.

Colbeck introduced himself and his companions, Victor Leeming and Walter Praine. He explained that he was leading the investigation into the murder and thanked Micah for the witness statement that he had given.

'If you work on a barge,' said Micah, shifting his pipe to the other side of his mouth, 'you fish all sorts of odd things out of the canal but this is the first time we found the dead body of a man.'

'Your son and grandson were with you, I believe.'

'Yes, Inspector – Enoch and Sam.'

'How tall would your son be?'

'That's a strange question. Why do you ask it?'

'Curiosity, Mr Triggs. Would he be around your height?'

'No,' replied Micah. 'Enoch is a good foot taller than me and twice as broad. Sam is shorter and has more of my build.'