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ma’am.’
    ‘Good morning. I understand something about Brookway Farm didn’t seem quite right when you visited it this morning. Could you explain?’
    Holly spoke first. ‘It’s not a working farm, ma’am. There are quite a number in this area that have been converted into holiday homes or even split into apartments. That’s not unusual. But I got the feeling that the man who answered the door was waiting for me. I drove into the yard, and he’d have heard that. But in other places, if they’d heard us driving up, the owners would come across to speak before I reached the door. And if they hadn’t heard us, they’d be a bit surprised when they opened the door and found a copper on the doorstep. But this guy was neither. He was silent and just looked me up and down. I asked him about the farm and he said the place was about to be converted once the owners could raise the money. Meanwhile it was a temporary let. The fields were going to one of the neighbouring farms. But he was kind of edgy.’
    ‘And while they were talking I was sure that someone was watching from an upstairs window,’ Allbright added. ‘Jack wouldn’t have been able to see, but I was standing by the car. There was a small gap between the curtain and the frame, and I don’t think it was there when we drove up. It might have been my imagination, but the shadow seemed a bit deeper there.’
    ‘What did he have to say?’ Sophie asked Holly.
    ‘He hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual. And that was about it. He didn’t say much at all.’
    ‘What did he look like?’
    ‘Middling height and weight. Probably in his late thirties. Mousey brown hair. Denim jeans, grey trainers, blue windproof jacket. Gap in his front teeth.’
    ‘Fine. And well done for being so observant. If anything else occurs to you, tell one of us right away.’
    The two uniformed officers left.
    Sophie said, ‘Let’s get out there, Barry. There’s no point wasting any time. Grab a coffee to drink in the car.’
    The road out of Swanage snaked up the side of the chalk ridge, heading for the Ulwell gap, the only valley west of Corfe Castle. The earlier rain had eased off, but low clouds still obscured the higher ground. They were soon approaching the shoreline of Poole Harbour, although the water could not be seen. There was a thick belt of trees, several hundred yards deep, along the coastal strip. They passed several farms and finally came to the track they were looking for. Potholes covered the surface, which at times was completely broken up. They finally approached the farm buildings and turned into an untidy yard.
    The farm looked deserted. There were no windows open and no smoke coming from the chimneys. No one appeared at the doorway as the two detectives walked across the yard. No one answered their knocks, despite Marsh’s increasingly insistent hammering.
    ‘Do you think they’ve gone, ma’am?’
    ‘Looks like it. Let’s have a look around and see if anything’s been left unlocked.’
    There were several outhouses, but they contained little other than aged and rusting agricultural machinery. Beds of weeds, nettles and brambles covered what had probably once been the kitchen garden, and half-rotted gardening implements leaned against a ramshackle shed. A rusty tractor still sat in one of the larger outhouses, but its front wheels were missing and the cabin was dirty. The other sheds were in a similar state. It looked as if the farm machinery hadn’t been used in years.
    From inside a shed, they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. They walked out and saw a pick-up truck parked near their car. Two men had climbed out, and were making their way towards Sophie’s car.
    ‘Good morning!’ she called.
    They turned, and the taller of the two walked towards them. He indicated for the other man to stay back. Sophie flipped open her warrant card.
    ‘Detective Chief Inspector Sophie Allen. This is Sergeant Barry Marsh.’
    The man nodded.
    ‘And?’