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But Dad started off here just the same as everyone else. It’s not our fault he made so much money.’

‘I see.’ Luke’s record of violence was unblemished by greed but driven, by all accounts, by jealousy. It was possible the one might spill over into the other but, in the context of the case, irrelevant. ‘And so you jumped out on him.’

‘Yeah. We played with the gates a bit, and he looked confused. And them we jumped out and he got angry and went after us. And of course we didn’t run away.’ Ollie fingered the bruise. ‘He has a devil of a temper.’

‘And then what happened? How did the fight end?’

‘Miranda came along and interrupted it. She sent us back into the house, and we stayed there.’ Ollie met his gaze with impudence. ‘Getting our story straight, as it happens. For Dad, not for you. Because we weren’t expecting anything to happen to Luke and we didn’t think the police would come.’

If their father was the martinet Faye seemed to think, the boys would do well to find some way to appease him. ‘Did you overhear any conversation between Mrs Neilson and Mr Helmsley?’

Ollie shook his head. ‘We were just glad to get out of it. Ran back to the house like a pair of rats and stayed there. He can pack a punch, Luke.’

‘Okay. Let’s go over it once more to make sure there’s nothing I’ve missed. And then I’ll let you go and I’ll have a chat with your brother.’

‘Inevitably,’ Jude said to Doddsy as they stood a little way up the hill and waited for the doctor to certify Luke Helmsley as dead, ‘the twins had identical stories. But that’s not really surprising. I suspect it would have happened even if they hadn’t had time to agree something. And although I’m prepared to be wrong, I’m inclined to think it wasn’t them.’

Doddsy nodded, looking in deep thought at the scene below the bridge. ‘It’s handy for someone that George Barrett died, isn’t it? He’d have seen something.’

‘I thought that. And are we sure no-one else did?’

‘We haven’t done the door-to-doors yet. Ashleigh will come down and take charge of that. But it won’t take long.’ There were only half a dozen houses in Martindale and Boredale combined, plus the hamlet of Sandwick. ‘We’ll do the houses all the way up to Pooley Bridge, and see if there’s anyone in the campsite who saw anything but I doubt it, unless there was someone up on Hallin Fell.’

‘Even then, the path goes the other way round. I wouldn’t swear to it but I reckon you can’t see the bridge from most of it.’ The killer, then, was clever. ‘Did you speak to anyone?’

‘The farmer came down. Luke’s employer. He was out looking for him because he hadn’t come back from his lunch break. I’d be surprised if it was him. I’ve never seen a man go grey so quickly when he heard what had happened.’ Doddsy slid his hand into his pocket and extracted a lighter and a packet of cigarettes, then slid them back again when the doctor stood up and stretched himself, then turned and scanned the assortment of police personnel for them.

They went down the hill towards him. ‘Dead, of course?’ said Jude, as a conversation starter. It had been obvious.

‘Well and truly.’ The doctor was new to both of them, round and pink-faced, young enough to relish the excitement of certifying a body dead in the street. A tweed jacket and matching tie marked him out as a young fogey. ‘Difficult to say for how long. The water would affect the body temperature.’

‘And the cause of death? Obviously we need to wait for the PM for a final verdict, but do you have any ideas?’

‘Broken neck,’ the doctor said, without hesitation. ‘Not just broken. Snapped. You may find the post-mortem shows water in the lungs and so technically he might be said to have drowned. But if the neck injury didn’t actually kill him, it would have done within minutes. Bloody neat job, too. Almost certainly not accidental. In my view.’ He glanced at his watch, glanced at his car. ‘You can do as you wish with the body, now.’

‘Thanks.’ Jude saw him off while Doddsy gave the go-ahead to Tammy and her CSI team. At the place where the road was now closed, a Range Rover, new and top-of-the-range, pulled up and a man got out. Robert Neilson.

‘Ey up,’ Doddsy said, under his breath. ‘Who’s this?’ He’d got the cigarettes out again and in the name of professionalism was forced to put them back again, but he kept his fingers tapping on his jacket pocket.

‘I need to get home,’ Robert was saying to the PCSO. He had his back to them and his tone was polite, but icy. ‘My wife and sons are on their own in the house—’

The twins were more than capable of looking after themselves, and Jude thought Miranda was a tougher nut than she wanted them to think. He watched with interest.

‘I’m sorry, sir. This is a crime scene. We’ll clear it as soon as we can.’

‘Officer. That isn’t good enough. People live in this place. They have responsibilities. I insist you allow me access to my home.’

‘Do we intervene?’ asked Doddsy, under his breath.

Jude shook his head. ‘Not unless we have to.’ Not, at least, until he could justify it to Faye.

‘I can promise you, sir, I understand. Being a local lad myself. It’s a crime scene—’

‘So you said. And I’m a local resident.’

The PCSO looked back over his shoulder towards them. ‘If you need to talk to the detective in charge…’

‘That’ll be you,’ said Jude, under his voice. ‘I’m having nothing to do with it.’

But Neilson, turning, took a long look at them and backed down. ‘No. That won’t be necessary. I suppose I’ll have to go and find myself a hotel for the night.’

‘I very much hope you’ll be back in your home later

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