Henry looked wistfully at Inspector Barnaby on television and wondered if he would ever find out who done it. Joanne led him into another room he was unfamiliar with, in this case a little office just around the back of the kitchen, along a short, narrow corridor. Inside he saw two tables, one with a large computer on it and a small desk with a laptop and printer and various items of electronic hardware. Joanne never does anything by halves, he thought to himself, looking around the well-stocked chamber. Joanne invited him to sit down, and he chose a chair overlooking the lush garden. Joanne searched a drawer and found a sturdy notebook and a ball point pen. She offered them to Henry.
‘I don’t need a book,’ he told her cheerfully. ‘I have a miniature recorder.’
Joanne raised an eyebrow a
