“And is there anyone who held a grudge against our victim?” the inspector enquired.

“Not that Theo was aware of.” Keya held out Theo’s phone for Ryan to take.

“Actually,” Ryan said, “you should give it to Sujin first. He’ll give it to me when he’s finished with it.”

Keya left the inspector’s office and walked down the corridor to the custody suite. The white plastic table where Warren had been working had been cleared away, although the green and blue plastic bins were still beside the wall.

Keya knocked on Sujin’s door, wondering why she couldn’t hear any music.

“Come in,” Sujin called, but when she opened the door there was hardly any room for her inside.

Warren was standing next to Sujin and together they were examining the end of a hand-rolled cigarette.

“Keya, come in. Warren is helping me establish if anything Daisy ate, drank, or inhaled killed her. We’ve come up negative with the can of cider which had her fingerprints and saliva on it, so we’re now checking this homemade cigarette.”

Sujin picked it up with a pair of forceps and sniffed it.

“Definitely herbal. I’ll need to conduct more tests to find out exactly what it contains. And, of course, we need the results of the saliva test to confirm Daisy sucked it.”

Keya placed Theo’s phone on a clear area of workspace near the door. “Ryan asked me to give you Theo’s phone to examine. Can you give it to him when you’ve finished with it?”

“OK. Thanks.” Sujin placed the cigarette back on the worktable and reached for a scalpel.

“Did you find anything else of interest in the rubbish?” Keya asked.

“Not that immediately stood out,” Sujin replied, concentrating on cutting the cigarette.

Keya decided to leave him to his work and returned to the team room. As she sat down at her desk to write up her notes, her phone rang.

It was Gilly. “Are you coming back to the cafe this afternoon?” she asked.

“I can do,” Keya replied.

“Great. I want to sit down and discuss the open-air cinema night. Will five o’clock be OK?”

Keya checked her watch. It was just after three.

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

Keya started to write up her notes.

Ryan looked up from the opposite desk and asked, “Any ideas for what I can do with the cadets tonight?”

Inspector Evans stepped out of his office and asked, “Your turn to be in charge of the Volunteer Cadet Force, is it, Constable?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why don’t we make it realistic and give them a summary of the case we’re currently working on? See what ideas they have, as I’m certainly struggling to understand what happened.”

“We, sir?” Ryan queried.

“Do you have any objection to me talking to them?”

“Certainly not, sir. I just thought you’d want to go home and …” Ryan’s voice trailed off.

“Stare at the walls?” asked the inspector, raising his eyebrows. “I do enough of that already.”

“And you could ask them what they know about crop circles?” Keya suggested.

“There you are, Constable Jenkins. A full itinerary. Now you better make some slides or something you can hand round explaining what we’ve done so far in the case.”

Keya finished her notes and, not envying Ryan his task, or having the assistance of Inspector Evans at the evening’s cadets’ meeting, she said, “I’m needed at the cafe. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

As she passed Ryan’s desk, she mouthed, “Good luck.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Keya parked round the side of the cafe, in the new car park, and walked towards the deli. The weather was still warm, despite the clouds and the wind. She watched as her youngest sister scooped chocolate ice cream onto a cone for a young girl.

The girl happily skipped away as Keya joined Maitri and said, “Your idea for the ice cream cart is popular.”

“Yes, and it’s only June. Hopefully, we’ll have lots more customers in the school holidays, but it’ll depend on the weather.” She looked up at the clouds and frowned. “And I suppose we won’t be getting our fresh bread order now?”

“I spoke to Theo today, and he’d like to keep the bakery going, but it isn’t a priority.”

“That’s a shame. But come and try these pickles that a local farmer’s wife brought in.”

Inside the deli, there were metal racks displaying an assortment of items, from gluten-free pasta, to flavoured mayonnaise, and handmade luxury biscuits. Fridges and freezers against one wall contained meats, ready meals, and a selection of frozen berries.

Maitri stepped behind the counter, part of which was chilled and displayed sliced meats, cheeses and ready-prepared salads. The salads were Maitri’s latest idea, and she arrived early each morning to prepare a selection with Monica and their new kitchen assistant, Mick.

Maitri handed Keya a savoury biscuit topped with a lumpy yellow mixture.

“Piccalilli. That’s the spicy version.”

It certainly was. Keya bit a piece of carrot in the piccalilli and gasped for air.

“The vegetables are perfect,” she said. “With just the right crunch, but that’s too hot even for me!”

Maitri laughed and handed Keya a glass of water.

After drinking half of it, Keya said, “I know piccalilli should have a sharp vinegar and mustard taste, but I think that’s too much.”

“Try this one,” suggested Maitri, handing Keya another loaded biscuit.

“Perfect,” said Keya, swallowing the fruity, spicy mixture. “I know Norman would enjoy that with a slice of cold ham. Anything else?”