NOTHING NEW OF ANY interest had turned up while they were in Norfolk. Soon, they were back in the car – Rafferty having requisitioned the keys – and, with a brief phone call to confirm he was at home, on their way to see Ivor Bignall.
Bignall, since the murder, seemed to have become quite the house husband. As before, he led them through to the same attractive room. Again, Dorothea Bignall was seated by the fire. She greeted them warmly, and once they had sat down at her invitation, she said, ‘I didn’t expect to see you again quite so soon, Inspector. How can we help you?’
The big man seemed more subdued this time than he had been on the last occasion they’d spoken to him. In contrast, his wife Dorothea seemed quite perky as if she felt the need to compensate for the silence of her usual
