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the head. He was old, but he was… how you say… well. He was very strong.’
    ‘Do you have any ideas as to who might have attacked Dr Koch?’
    ‘I don’t… I don’t know. He was a very important man. Very wealthy.’
    ‘Have there been any visitors recently? Anyone Dr Koch argued with perhaps?’
    ‘His daughter was there yesterday; Mrs D’Arcy. They argue all the time. Mr Kinneally also visited yesterday. He works for Dr Koch, running one of his companies.’
    ‘What did he argue with his daughter about?’
    ‘I don’t know. They always have the door closed. She is not happy person, Mrs D’Arcy. She drinks… how do you say, like a… fish?’ She raised her eyebrows quizzically.
    McEvoy nodded his head. He doubted that Roza didn’t know why Koch and his daughter argued, but he didn’t want to press the issue; he’d ask Marion D’Arcy himself. ‘Who else worked at the house? Were you the only one?’
    ‘No, no. Mr Farrell is the farm manager. He sometimes has helpers. Mr Freel is his business manager. Janek helps with gardens two evenings a week,’ she patted her boyfriend’s hand. ‘Sometimes at weekends.’
    ‘And were any of them there yesterday?’
    ‘Mr Farrell was there all day. He left at about six o’clock . Mr Freel was there in the afternoon. He was working with Dr Koch. They were always working.’
    ‘And when did Mr Freel leave?’
    ‘I don’t know. Before eight o’clock . Dr Koch ate on his own.’
    ‘How about anybody else?’
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘What was Dr Koch like to work for?’ McEvoy asked.
    ‘He was… He was a clever man. He worked hard.’ Roza stopped, looking embarrassed.
    ‘He could be difficult?’ McEvoy hazarded.
    She nodded her head. ‘He liked things the way he liked them.’
    ‘Did you get on well with him?’
    ‘I… we got on well. He was an interesting person. He know all about Polish history.’
    ‘Did you work for him for long?’
    ‘Three years. Do you… I no longer have a job?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ McEvoy said truthfully. ‘You told one of my colleagues that you thought someone had searched the house?’
    ‘Yes. Many things had been moved. Only a little, but I could tell. They searched everywhere. You think it was a thief?’
    ‘I don’t know. Possibly.’ McEvoy shrugged. Thieves were rarely so careful as to try and erase all trace of their presence.
    * * *
     
    The sun had long set and it was dark outside, given the absence of the moon and stars and any ambient light of street lamps. He found the quiet and stillness unsettling. One could drift through this landscape, the farmland, ditches, hedges and mature trees, and no one would be any the wiser. Whoever killed Albert Koch hadn’t needed to worry about witnesses beyond the cattle in the adjacent fields and the local fox.
    He kicked a small, gravel pebble from the top of the steps out onto the driveway and checked his watch – 5.32. He needed to call home and let his sister and Gemma know what he was doing and then check-in with his inspectors to see how their cases were progressing. He pulled his mobile phone from a pocket and started to pace, uneasy in the silent gloom.
    The call was answered after four rings.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘It’s me. I’m sorry, but I’m going to be tied up until late.’
    ‘Don’t worry about it,’ McEvoy’s sister, Caroline, said calmly. ‘As soon as I heard the news on the radio I knew you’d be calling. We’ve got in a DVD . There’s no problem with her staying over – the room’s set up as usual. Do you want a word with her?’
    ‘In a minute,’ he answered. Given the hours of his job, and the fact that he could be investigating a case anywhere in the country, his daughter often stayed over with his sister. It was an arrangement that McEvoy was both thankful for and embarrassed by, but there was little choice unless he looked for another line of work, and that wasn’t really an option, especially in the short term. ‘How’re