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It was with some ambivalence that Julia found herself parked outside the Berrywick police station, dithering. On the one hand, Hannah and the book club were counting on Julia to come to Jane’s defence. There was also Julia’s own fondness for the Jane she knew from book club – a smart woman and insightful reader, who had exhibited nothing but decency and good-heartedness in the years they’d known each other.

But what had actually brought Julia to the station this morning was that other very specific piece of information that she had remembered, with a cold shiver, while talking to Hannah at the Buttered Scone. It might be nothing, but she felt Hayley needed to know. It was a piece of information that would have the exact opposite effect from what Hannah and the book club had hoped for. It would make Jane look like a more, rather than less, likely suspect.

What Julia knew was that Jane had been in that props cupboard on the day of the play opening. She’d had the opportunity to meddle with the gun. Yes, she had been returning Graham’s fake moustache, but who’s to say that wasn’t a cover story? She might have used the opportunity to plant the bullet, and wipe her prints off the gun. Could Jane have planned the whole thing to kill her philandering husband? And, if so, could Oscar have been in on it?

Julia remembered that she had been with Roger when they’d made this realisation. But they’d been interrupted by the call about the fingerprints. Julia couldn’t be sure that in the discussions around the missing prints, Roger would ever have mentioned to Hayley that Jane had dropped off the moustache. That detail might well have got lost in the bigger picture of the fingerprints on the prop gun.

There was only one thing for it – she needed to ask him, and if he hadn’t said anything, she needed to tell Hayley. She hoped that she would find Roger at the police station, or that they would know where he was.

‘You’re going to have to stay in the car,’ she said to Jake, who was sitting up expectantly. ‘I’m popping into the police station. I won’t be a moment, and I’ll leave all the windows open. No chewing the seat belt.’ This last, she said sternly. She’d already had to replace one of the back seat belts, although that had been a while ago and Jake had mostly stopped his chewing habit since then. ‘If you’re a very good boy and I’m quick, we might get to see Leo and Jono later, okay?’

Jake seemed to accept the bargain. He watched her close the door, then gave a resigned sigh and flopped down onto the back seat for a quiet snooze. Julia heard footsteps gaining on her as she neared the door to the police station.

‘Julia.’

She turned. It was Oscar.

‘Goodness, Oscar, well, I didn’t expect to see you here.’

That was an understatement. If Jane and Oscar had been seeing each other when Jane’s husband was killed, pitching up at the police station where she was being questioned seemed like a bold move on Oscar’s part.

‘I’m here for Jane, of course. ’

Oh dear, the foolishness of love. How many times had Julia seen it end in pain and disaster, even death?

‘Is that sensible, Oscar?’ asked Julia. ‘It might be a bit surprising to the police.’ She hoped she’d worded this diplomatically.

‘I am the family lawyer, so it’s hardly surprising I’m here.’

‘The family lawyer? Oh, I didn’t know.’

She had known he was a lawyer, of course. But not that Jane was his client.

That might explain everything – especially if Jane’s marriage had been falling apart. Their intense conversations could well have been professional. Playing it all over in her mind, Julia could see that there was actually very little hard evidence that pointed to anything more. Julia felt her face flush with the shame and embarrassment of her crazy assumptions.

‘I’ve been their lawyer for years,’ Oscar was saying. ‘For both of them. Of course, in the last little while that has been a bit…Let’s just say I’m Jane’s lawyer now. She’s needed rather a lot of legal advice recently.’

‘I saw Graham’s lawyer the other day. He was here at the police station, talking about a separation…’

Oscar looked surprised – and not in a good way – to discover that this piece of the puzzle was already out in the world.

‘Yes, well, I really can’t discuss anything more with you. Client confidentiality, and so on. But I’m here to help Jane in any way I can.’

‘Ah, so your relationship is professional then, is it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Somehow I thought you were…friends.’

‘The Powells and I go back a long way. Yes, we are friends. Jane and I have some ancient history between us. But I’m also their lawyer, a role that I take very seriously. ’

‘Good, well, I’m glad Jane has somebody in her corner. It seems she is in a sad and difficult situation.’

Oscar and Julia walked into the station, Julia chewing over what Oscar had told her. Did this change things, she wondered? She still needed to find out if Roger had told Hayley about the moustache. But when she asked Cherise if she could speak to Roger, Cherise told her that Roger was out for the day.

‘Do you know where I might find him?’ asked Julia.

‘It’s hardly for me to ask Superintendent Grave his movements for the day, is it?’ said Cherise, glaring at Julia. Julia conceded that indeed, it was not, and that she would have to send him a text. She felt a bit awkward messaging him for police business when she only had his number because of the show. She went back to the car, thinking about what she now knew, and how it might fit in with what she had thought.

Jake was thrilled to see her back. Thrilled! The separation had been long and arduous – although, truth be told, it was five minutes and he had been asleep for its entirety – and now they were reunited. He breathed his hot, foggy dog breath onto her neck while she fastened her seat belt. She opened the driver’s side window and gulped in a lungful of fresh air.

‘Good chap, Jakey,’ she said, having surveyed the car for new tooth marks. ‘Give me a minute and we’ll be on our way.’

While she had been standing in the police station speaking to Cherise, she had heard a WhatsApp message arrive on her phone. She pulled it out of her handbag to check.

It was from Roger himself to the group.

Hi all. Please see the new cast list below.

‘Third time lucky,’ Julia muttered to herself. Indeed, as promised, there followed a list of names of characters and names of actors. Oscar and Graham were not amongst them, of course. Hector was listed, once again, as Postman. The poor chap would be most disappointed. Julia was sorry for him, but admired Roger’s resolve. Hector was indisputably a truly terrible actor. Sure, this wasn’t the West End, just an amateur production in the Cotswolds, but you had to have some standards. Roger was, if nothing else, a professional – even when it came to amateur dramatics – and a sensible man.

But Roger’s message was, for once, perfectly timed.

Julia typed out a message to him.

Hi Roger. Good call on the casting, Tab and I will get the props and costumes sorted. Could I chat to you about something else? Not cast-related, you’ll be pleased to hear! Maybe a coffee? It’s a bit urgent.

His reply was almost instant: Are you in the village? I’ll be at the hall until about 2p.m. You can pop in if you are about.

Yes, yes, she did want to pop in! She messaged to say she’d be round shortly and got a thumbs-up.

Jake wasn’t pleased to be left in the car again, but this really was a pop-in. She opened the windows and reiterated her previous instructions, then followed the path through the garden to the hall. The big main door was locked, so she went around to the side door, adjacent to the stage. This door was open. Through the gap she saw Roger Grave’s back, his long neck angled towards the phone held to his ear. She was hesitant to interrupt him, and in the moment that she hovered in the doorway she heard him say sweetly, ‘Darling, you know you can rely on me. Even though I disapproved of what you planned to do, when I realised I couldn’t talk you out of it, I helped you with Graham.’

Roger’s voice dropped, as he walked towards the other side of the hall, and out of Julia’s hearing. Julia was shocked by what she’d heard. I helped you with Graham . Helped who? With what? Had Roger had something to do with Graham’s death?

He had called the person darling, and his tone had been so loving. Roger Grave was not, by nature, a gushing man. There was only one other time that Julia had seen him behave lovingly – with Bethany outside the Buttered Scone. She felt sure he must be speaking to Bethany now – who else could it be? If Bethany had been in a relationship with Graham, and then with Roger, maybe the two of them had felt a need to get rid of Graham. Hadn’t Hector mentioned that things had been tense between the two men in rehearsals? That would certainly be true if they were fighting over the same woman. But would that lead to murder?

Roger had had even more opportunity than Jane had to load the prop gun; and Roger’s fingerprints had been on the weapon. Julia had presumed it had been from when Roger had taken the gun from Oscar at the scene. But thinking about it now, a policeman of Roger’s experience would have been more careful about adding prints to the weapon – unless he wanted a reason for his own prints to appear on the gun. Julia’s heart started pounding. The more she thought about it, the more sense this was making.

She stepped backward, moving slowly. She didn’t want to face him until she’d had more time to think about it. But Roger must have felt her presence, because he started to turn around. Julia had the presence of mind to step forward. By the time he saw her, she looked as if she’d just arrived and could not possibly have overheard him.

‘Hello, Roger,’ she called out with a deliberate casualness. She felt a nervous constriction in her throat, but hoped it wasn’t obvious in her voice.

‘Hi, Julia,’ he said, holding up his hand to indicate he needed a moment. Speaking into his phone he said, ‘I’ve got to go, Bethie. Let’s chat later…Okay…You too. ’

Julia smiled and gave a ‘don’t mind me…’ wave of her hand, but inside, she was all a-churn. It was Bethany that he had been speaking to! She didn’t have time to properly process what she had heard. That would be for later. For now, she had to think of something to say, a reason for being here.

Roger Grave was now off the phone and looking at Julia expectantly. She couldn’t discuss the case with him, not after what she’d heard. She just stood there gaping, hoping that something would come to her. Nothing did.

‘How are you, Julia? What can I do for you? What did you want to talk about?’

‘The dogs!’

She blurted the words. They seemed to come straight out of her mouth without spending even a brief sojourn in her brain. And then she was committed.

‘Dogs? I’m sorry, but you’ll have to explain.’

‘Yes, of course, that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll explain.’

She smiled and nodded like a lunatic.

‘Are you all right, Julia?’

‘Yes, yes. Of course. It’s just the dogs, you see. I had a thought. Which seemed like a very good thought. So I thought, Roger! He’s the man to talk to.’

‘About the dogs?’

‘Yes, let me explain…’

He waited.

‘I was thinking of a fundraiser, that’s it.’ Julia almost laughed with relief when the idea entered her head. It was an idiotic idea, most likely, but at least she had something to work with. ‘People love dogs, don’t they? And Graham loved dogs.’

It was true, in fact, as far as she knew, that Graham had loved dogs. She had regularly spotted Graham and Jane at the dog park with a brace of small yappy beasts, each with a different coloured ribbon in its well-groomed hair.

Roger’s expression had morphed from mildly confused towards concerned. He must be wondering if she had had a stroke.

‘A dog fundraiser?’

‘Yes, that’s the idea,’ she said, more confidently. Now she had an idea, she gathered steam. ‘I was thinking, perhaps we could do a special performance of the show as a fundraiser for the RSPCA. In Graham’s memory.’

As she said it, she thought it was rather a good idea. Perhaps even brilliant.

‘I like that, Julia.’ Roger Grave smiled. ‘We’d have to run it by Jane, of course. But I know that everyone in the group would like to do something to honour Graham.’

Especially the man who murdered him! What better cover up for his evil act? The thought came back to Julia with the force of a blow. She replayed the fragments of Roger’s conversation with Bethany in her mind. When I realised I couldn’t talk you out of it, I helped you with Graham… What else could that mean? Somehow, Bethany and Roger had orchestrated the death of Graham Powell – Bethany’s love, Roger’s rival for her affections.

Julia had to get out of there. ‘I know you’re busy, Roger, and I’ve left Jake in the car, so I’ll be running, then. Well not running, not running away, just, I’d better be on my way. So you think about it. Think about Graham. I mean, the fundraiser, not Graham himself. And we can talk about it some other time. Okay?’

‘Are you all right, Julia? You look pale and a bit…shaky.’

‘Blood sugar,’ she said, without further explanation.

‘Sweetie?’ he asked, rummaging in his jacket pockets. ‘I always have a toffee on me somewhere.’

He pulled out a sweet in rather crumpled paper. Julia snatched it from his hand, just to put an end to the exchange. She unwrapped it and tossed it into her mouth.

‘Thanks.’ The word came out more like ‘Hunks’.

The toffee must have been in his pocket since the Early Jurassic, and was approximately as hard as the rocks from the same era. This was helpful, in fact. She made muffled sounds and a series of mimed movements in place of a proper goodbye, and made a hasty and undignified exit.