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    ‘The children play in their garden, of course,’ she said. ‘What children wouldn’t love to have a garden like that to play in?’
    Cooper gazed out of the window, trying to orientate himself in relation to the Barrons’ property.
    ‘Those trees there. They must be on your neighbours’ side.’
    ‘Yes, that’s right.’
    ‘I think I noticed a tree house when I was at Valley View.’
    ‘Oh, you saw it.’
    ‘The most expensive tree house ever built,’ said Mr Holland. ‘When I was a child, my dad built us one out of bits of spare timber, and we loved it. Not Jake Barron. He brought in a tree house designer. Can you believe it?’
    ‘I don’t think Sergeant Cooper wants to hear about tree houses,’ said Mrs Holland firmly.
    Her husband shrugged and wandered away a few feet, making a show of examining the rose bush outside the window.
    ‘Actually, I was wondering if you might have seen anything last night,’ said Cooper.
    ‘Oh, anything suspicious? That’s what you say, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes. Any unusual activity, strangers hanging around, vehicles you didn’t recognise?’
    She looked disappointed. ‘No. We would have told someone already if we’d seen anything like that.’
    ‘How long have you lived here in Riddings?’
    ‘About five years,’ she said. ‘Martin was a very successful commercial lawyer. He still does a certain amount of consultancy work, but at least I get to spend time with him now. And there’s the house. It’s lovely, isn’t it?’
    ‘Oh, yes. Very nice. It must be a wonderful place to live.’
    ‘All this business is very worrying, though. Nowhere is safe, is it? Not these days. We thought a place like this, in the country …’
    ‘Unfortunately, it’s not the case.’
    ‘I suppose it’s the times we live in. People need money badly. And they look at houses like ours and think we have more than our share. That must be what makes them do things like this, don’t you think? It’s envy, isn’t it? Envy, pure and simple. It’s an emotion that can really eat into people.’
    She sounded as though she was speaking from experience. Cooper was about to ask her why, when his phone buzzed. There was a text message from Becky Hurst, asking to speak to him when he was free.
    ‘I’ll have to go,’ he said. ‘But if you do happen to think of anything, here’s my card.’
    Mr Holland had turned to look at him again with a glower, his hands thrust into the pockets of his corduroy trousers. Cooper handed his card to Mrs Holland, simply on the basis that she seemed to be the one who was most interested.
    ‘Well, you ought to check on the people who go up on the edge at night,’ she said.
    ‘Which people?’ asked Cooper.
    ‘You’ll see them. There are always cars parked up at the gap, no matter what time of night you go past. Goodness knows what they do up there. I wouldn’t care to think.’
    ‘We’ll be checking on everything.’
    ‘Be sure that you do.’
    Cooper thought he was probably going to have to get used to people telling him what to do. Here, everyone would think it was their right.
    On his way out on to Curbar Lane, Cooper had to squeeze past a gardener’s van drawn up in the gateway with a trailer full of freshly sawn branches. There must be plenty of work for gardeners in this area. Maintenance of all these lawns and flower borders had to be an endless task, like painting the Forth Bridge.
    Working near the van was a gardener with short-cropped blond hair. The young man failed to look up as Cooper passed, which was odd. The natural thing would be to show curiosity about what was happening. A few yards down the lane, when his car was out of sight round a bend, Cooper pulled over and wrote down the name of the company from the side of the van. AJS Gardening Services.
    While he was stopped, he called Becky Hurst.
    ‘What’s up, Becky?’
    ‘I thought you should know, Sarge. I took the side lane by the Methodist church. Chapel Close? Mr Gamble