‘Actually, it did,’ Roscoe observed. ‘But I resisted the temptation.’

The brothers laughed genially. They were both in their forties, heavily built and cheerful.

A few moments under the bonnet was enough to make Frank say, ‘This’ll take until tomorrow. And look, I’m afraid we can’t invite you in. The family’s away and we’ve sort of planned…well…’

‘A night on the tiles,’ Pippa chuckled. ‘You devils! I’ll bet Crimea Street is going to rock.’

‘You’d better believe it!’

‘OK, I’ll come back tomorrow.’

‘Don’t you live here?’ Roscoe asked.

‘No, I’ve got my own little place a few miles away.’

‘Where exactly?’

She gave him the address in the heart of London.

‘I’ll take you,’ he said. ‘Get in.’

Relieved, she did so, first retrieving two heavy bags from the back of her car.

‘Thanks,’ she said as she clicked the seat belt and slammed the door. ‘I’ve got a heavy night’s work ahead of me and I’ve got to give it everything.’

‘No hungry man wanting his supper cooked?’

‘Nope. I live alone. Free, independent, no distractions.’

‘Except visiting your friends,’ he observed.

‘They’re my brothers-oh, you mean in the graveyard. I suppose you thought I looked very odd.’

‘No, you looked as if you were enjoying the company. It was nice.’

‘I always did enjoy my grandparents’ company. I adored them both. Especially Gran. I loved talking to her, and I guess I just can’t stop.’

‘Why should you want to?’

‘Most people would say because she’s dead.’

‘But she isn’t dead to you, and that’s what matters. Besides, I don’t think you worry too much about what other people say.’

‘Well, I ought to. I’m a lawyer.’

‘Ah, yes. Staid and serious.’

She made a comical face. ‘I do my best.’

Outwardly, he showed nothing, but inside his expression was wry. Twenty-seven. Was he expected to believe that? Twenty-four, tops. And even that was stretching it. If she really worked for Farley she was probably little more than a pupil, but that was fine. She could still be useful to him.