Yaxley Farcett watched Norman Worthington's Fiat disappear along the street and round the bend towards Ealham, the A10 and the North. Farcett's advice to return home had been eagerly accepted by the humbled Artistic Expressionist from Leeds and judging from the speed he was going he didn't want to risk being called back. Brian pushed his hand through his hair and nervously scratched the stubble on his chin. 'Is that really it Yaxley ? Yor not going to do anything about the Cordial ?' Farcett gazed round the farmyard, taking in the pigs milling at their trough, the tumbledown old house and looked across the flat landscape to the Cathedral, which dominated the horizon. 'No' he replied. 'Even though it's a category A drug and you like to quaintly dress it up as a 'cordial'. If you swear to me that that was the last batch, I'll forget about it.' Worthington nodded vigorously. 'Me and Cluncher haven't made any for years. He lost the old diary years ago an all. It were only Norman that showed any interest in the stuff. His arty mates yewst to like a 'Fenland Cocktail' so he said'. Farcett returned his attention to Worthington. 'Ok then. Matter closed'.
As Brian wandered off to have a chat to the pigs, Yaxley took out his mobile phone and dialled Ealham station. He made two requests. One: Sergeant Dave Stumpsfield should be recalled to the station. Two: Graham Trent and Cedric Morgan (MP) should make themselves available for interview at the station for seven o'clock. 'They should be arrested on suspicion of murder should the arrangement not be to their liking', he added gruffly. He left Brian and wandered along the road in the direction of The Skaters Run. It occurred to Yaxley that it was the first time that he'd actually walked anywhere since his arrival in East Anglia.
He went in the front door of the pub to discover Fiona and Fred still sitting at the bar. Fred was in fine form and apparently recovered from the loss of his dog. The early evening drinkers had started to arrive and Johnny Swift busied himself with serving as Yaxley walked up to Fiona. 'Can you give me a lift Fiona ? I've got to meet Stumpy at the station in fifteen minutes and I don't think I'd better drive' Fiona raised an eyebrow. 'If you're over the limit for driving, aren't you over the limit for police work ?' She had a point. Yaxley didn't normally make it a habit to drink vast quantities of ale before interviewing someone, but in this case he was prepared to make an exception. 'Just pop me over will you ? I'm sure Fred can find someone to tell his tall tales to.' 
They left Fred Rickett's as he began to tell some newcomers to the village all about the sexual connotations of something called 'Broom dancing' and crossed the road to Farcett's Escort. As they made their way along the street and round the church corner, Fiona asked Yaxley who he was bringing in for interview. Yaxley quickly avoided her gaze and began to search for a tape in the glove compartment. He pulled out 'Who's Next' and hurriedly plugged the cassette in. 'Er..er..er..Just some people that can shed some light' he mumbled as Roger Daltrey let rip 
with his assertion that 'out there in the fields he fought for his meals'. They carried on in a companionable silence before Fiona turned the car into the entrance of Ealham Police Station. As she pulled on the handbrake a patrol car pulled up beside them and she was confronted with the sight of her father being man-handled from the back seat and into the station. Morgan's language was sufficiently profane that if there had been a swear box present it would have filled quicker than a pub announcing free beer and loose bar maids. Fiona grabbed Yaxley's chin and pulled it round so their eyes met. 'What's all this about Yaxley ? You told me earlier that my dad had nothing to do with this and now you're dragging him in like a criminal' Farcett settled back in his seat and explained the details of the Thompson's Wood land fraud and how her father was implicated.
He also told her of the threatening e-mails from Trent and her dad's lack of an alibi for the time of the murder. Fiona went quiet for a moment and said softly, 'D'you think he did it, Yaxley ?' Farcett reached out and stroked her hair and said 'No. No I don't...but I want the truth and I'm prepared to push 
him hard to get it'. He got out of the car and waved her off just as his mobile phone rang. It was Burton Coggles from Cambridge. He had conducted a preliminary post mortem of Reg Dixon's body and had been shocked at the state of it. He had broken ribs, a severe cut on the arm and extensive bruising all over his back. He had been beaten by someone who obviously didn't want the damage to show, as none of these injuries had been visible when his body had been found.
him hard to get it'. He got out of the car and waved her off just as his mobile phone rang. It was Burton Coggles from Cambridge. He had conducted a preliminary post mortem of Reg Dixon's body and had been shocked at the state of it. He had broken ribs, a severe cut on the arm and extensive bruising all over his back. He had been beaten by someone who obviously didn't want the damage to show, as none of these injuries had been visible when his body had been found. As Yaxley thanked Coggles and replaced his phone in his pocket he saw Graham Trent sauntering through the station gateway. Yaxley looked at his watch. 'You're late !' he barked at Trent. 'I said seven o'clock !' Trent walked up to Farcett and stood up close and impersonal. 'I've been out for some exercise' he breathed into Farcett's face.....'Yeah, I've been out kick-boxing'
