the social worker would offer to go and see if the children were OK. She didn’t. Alice took her seat again.
‘Where do you do your dry-cleaning, Mrs Fletcher?’ asked Rushton.
‘My what?’ asked Alice.
‘Dry-cleaning. There’s a couple of places down in Goodshaw Bridge, do you use either of those?’
‘I suppose I would,’ agreed Alice, ‘if I ever had anything to take. But I probably use dry-cleaners once a year.’
There was a moment’s silence, while Rushton and Jove exchanged glances.
‘I have three children,’ Alice continued, as though worried they might not believe her. ‘I paint for a living and my husband is a builder. As a general rule, if something won’t wash, I won’t buy it.’
‘Sound thinking,’ said Rushton, nodding his head. ‘My suits cost a fortune to keep clean, according to the wife. So, have you ever tried these home dry-cleaning kits? You know, when you shove everything in a bag with a load of chemicals and put it in the tumble-dryer?’
‘I’ve never heard of such things,’ said Alice.
‘So you won’t mind if Stacey here and her colleagues have a quick look round your cupboards, make sure there’s nothing you’ve forgotten?’
Alice thought about it for a second. ‘Be my guest,’ she said. ‘You won’t find them very tidy.’
Rushton turned and nodded to the WPC. She left the room.
‘We’re struggling with the dry-cleaning connection,’ said Harry.
‘The floor’s yours, Jove,’ said Rushton, leaning back in his chair. In the hallway, Harry could hear the sound of the front door opening and closing as someone, he guessed the WPC, left the house.
‘The crime-scene investigators found something in your garden last night that puzzled us,’ said DI Neasden, speaking to Alice. ‘We thought it was just a tissue of some sort at first but we photographed it, bagged it and took it to the lab, as we do.’
The front door opened again. Footsteps were coming towards the kitchen.
‘About thirty minutes ago, we got a phone call from them, saying they’ve managed to identify it,’ he continued. ‘It’s an essential part of a home dry-cleaning kit. A sort of cotton pad, soaked in stain-removing chemicals, that you put into the tumble-dryer with your clothes. If you do your dry-cleaning at home, that is.’
‘I’m going to have to talk to the wife about them,’ said Rushton, who was leaning back quite precariously by this stage.
‘Yes, thanks, Boss. Anyway …’
The kitchen door opened and the WPC was back, with two colleagues, both male. ‘OK to start in here, sir?’ she asked. Rushton nodded, lowering the front legs of his chair to the floor again.
‘The utility room’s through there,’ said Alice, indicating the back door. The two uniformed men left the kitchen, while the WPC knelt down and opened the cupboard under Alice’s sink.
‘Where was I?’ said DI Neasden. ‘Right, the dry-cleaning pad. Obviously, we wonder what it’s doing in your garden. It has a strong residue of chemicals clinging to it and it wasn’t particularly wet or muddy when we picked it up, suggesting that, like the footprints, it was left in your garden last night. The lab also say they’ve found traces of the same chemical in your husband’s gym bag.’
‘The dry-cleaning pad was in the bag,’ said Harry. Everyone ignored him.
‘Any reason why your husband might have a dry-cleaning kit in his gym bag?’ asked DI Neasden.
Alice shook her head. ‘Gareth can’t work the washing machine,’ she said.
‘Now, dry-cleaning fluids have a very distinctive smell,’ said Rushton, who seemed unable to keep quiet any longer. ‘You must know, Reverend, all your lovely robes must have to be professionally cleaned.’
Harry nodded. ‘Quite takes your breath away when you take them out of the plastic covers.’
‘And when we took the sheets off your daughter’s bed, we just got a whiff of something. Well, Jove did, to be honest. Very good nose.’
‘How has she been today?’ asked Neasden. ‘Have you noticed anything unusual? The GP took a look at her last night, didn’t he?’
‘He did,’ said Alice, who was starting to look frightened again. ‘I probably should just go and see …’
‘I’ll go,’ said Harry, getting to his feet. He stepped back from the table and stopped. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to hear where this was leading.
‘The doctor said she seemed fine,’ continued Alice. ‘A bit drowsy, but otherwise OK. He wasn’t worried about her, just asked me to bring her in later today.’
‘Any coughing? Runny nose? Red eyes?’ asked Neasden.
Alice nodded. ‘She has been rubbing her eyes a lot. What’s happened to her?’