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counter to me. In some ways Lydia was perfect, but in other ways she was too much like me. I need someone to pull me back down to earth occasionally. And you do that brilliantly. But we will have a DC with us. Someone starts next week as Lydia’s replacement, and I don’t know anything about him or her. I should have had a DS with me all along, but the powers that be never got around to it because they knew there were cuts on the way. So in a way, if you join me, I’ll have the core of the permanent team that I should have had from the start.’
    ‘When do I start? Officially, I mean?’
    ‘Now. I’ve already cleared it with Matt Silver and the Chief Constable will ratify it. I had a long chat with him last month when I returned to full-time work.’
    ‘I knew you were on leave for a long time. I heard that from the Super on one of his flying visits down here.’
    ‘I needed it, Barry. You saw what a mess I was in. That whole business really wrecked my brain. I thought I’d be okay once we bagged Duff and got all the loose ends tidied up, but I just got worse and worse. I was in and out of therapy for months. It was all due to the hatred I’d felt towards my father. I always thought that he’d run out on my mother when he found out that she was pregnant, despite what she’d told me. A childhood filled with that kind of simmering anger was barely controllable. Then to discover that he’d been murdered and hadn’t abandoned her at all was too much for me to cope with. It was all down to the intense guilt I was feeling, at having hated him for forty years.’
    ‘I had no idea. I’m just amazed that you want to continue.’
    ‘It’s what I do, Barry. It’s what I do best. I’m not ready to chuck in the towel just yet.’ She smiled at him. ‘Lucky for you, wouldn’t you say?’
    He nodded. Then his phone sounded.
    ‘We may have a lead on where they were staying.’
    ‘Let’s get moving. Time waits for no woman, nor does a murderer.’
    * * *
    The Hawthorns Guest House was situated just off Victoria Avenue, about half a mile from the seafront. It was a detached building, constructed from the local grey Purbeck stone. Virginia creeper, still in its glorious autumn colours, clung to the walls above the front porch and late-blossoming flowers cascaded from hanging baskets and tubs. Marsh introduced Sophie to the guesthouse proprietor, an anxious-looking woman in her fifties.
    ‘Mrs Julia Fantini, ma’am. She owns the place, and checked in a Mr Brian Shapiro and his friend when they arrived late yesterday afternoon.’
    The two detectives were taken to the room booked by the two men. Sophie asked the owner to wait downstairs.
    ‘We’ll just have a quick look around,’ she said. ‘I want to get a feel for the place.’
    The twin-bedded room was family-sized, and one of the beds was a double. It was a similar arrangement to the room they’d just visited at the hotel, although this one was smaller. It was neat and clean.
    ‘Well, nothing looks out of place, but we’ll get forensics to check once they’ve finished in the hotel.’
    Marsh nodded, and looked out of the window.
    Sophie stepped around the beds, scanning the surfaces of shelves and tables, but all the items looked as though they belonged to the premises. The wardrobe was empty, as were the four drawers in the dressing table. Two holdalls lay on the floor in front of the window.
    ‘It doesn’t look as though they unpacked,’ Sophie said. ‘Maybe they arrived, dumped their stuff and went out immediately.’
    She carefully unzipped each bag, looking for anything with a name on it, but could find nothing. Each small bag merely held a few spare clothes and an electric razor.
    ‘Travelling light,’ Marsh commented.
    ‘Right, let’s leave the detailed search to the experts. We need to examine the bookings.’
    They returned to the ground floor. The owner was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, her arms folded tightly around her chest. She