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“Which direction have you heard the dog?” Gabriella realized she was jumping eagerly on the smallest thing, because there were plenty of dogs who barked in London.

“From a little way down the street,” the woman said. “But honestly, not since yesterday evening.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Thank you, anyway.”

“Why’re you looking for him? Did he commit a crime?” The woman moved around the hedge to the gate, and Gabriella saw she was tiny, with a hunter green knit cap pulled low over her ears, a scarf wound three or four times around her neck, wearing an old mac that looked strictly for use while gardening.

Gabriella ignored the inference that she was an officer of the law. She had started to weary of explaining her lack of authority to people. She knew the uniform was to blame. “No. He’s a friend, and I last saw and spoke to him as he was coming down this very road in the direction of the high street. No one seems to have seen him since.” She had been to see Ruby and Teddy Roe before her shift this morning, leaving early so she could have a word before she began her day, and the news was bad.

No one had heard or seen anything.

He had now been missing for three days.

“What day was that?” the woman asked.

“Monday,” Gabriella said.

“I had my lawyer over on Monday.” The woman tilted her head. “You weren’t the one who gave him a fine, were you?”

She thought back to Monday. “A Rover?” she asked.

“Big dark blue thing, I don’t know the make and model.” The old woman smiled. “Treats me like an idiot, he does. So that was a very nice final touch to an afternoon of condescension. I told him he’d parked badly, so I didn’t want to see him trying to put the fine onto my bill.”

The way she cackled at that, Gabriella guessed her comment had not gone down well. “He was right up on the pavement, if I remember correctly. Blocking a fire hydrant.”

“Too lazy to park further down the road and walk,” the woman confirmed. “But I’ll tell you this for nothing, anything bad that happens on this street, it’s probably down to the shirkers in number twenty.” She pointed diagonally across the street.

“The house that’s being renovated?” Gabriella asked.

“Renovated,” the woman scoffed. “They started doing something, I’ll grant you that. Not sure what’s going on now, though. Haven’t seen any work there in weeks.”

“Builders can be unreliable,” Gabriella said.

The woman made a pfft sound. “Probably didn’t pay their builder’s bill, more like. Crooks, they are. The father, who was a piece of work, died about five years back. Defrauded his company, he did.” The woman lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Died of a heart attack in police custody. Ever so much of a to-do about it.”

“Who else lives there?” Gabriella remembered the man who’d appeared out of the gloom the day she’d started picking up the overturned furniture on the verge.

“The mother and the son, but it looks like they’ve got a lodger now. A tough, I think they call the likes of him. Got a swagger and an attitude.” She shook her head. “Brings the whole neighborhood down.”

Before she could respond, Gabriella saw someone walking down the pavement toward them, looking over fences into front gardens as he went.

He was going to get himself in trouble doing that, Gabriella guessed, although it wasn’t exactly illegal.

“Teddy Roe, what in heavens are you up to?” The old woman called out from over her gate as he came up to them.

Teddy Roe looked up from peering over another hedge. “Hello, Mrs. McKenzie. Hello, Gabriella. I’m looking for my friend. He’s missing.” He sounded so forlorn.

“I’ve been asking Mrs. McKenzie if she saw anything,” Gabriella said.

“And?” Teddy Roe perked up.

“Nothing.” Mrs. McKenzie pointed again to the house opposite. “Keep an eye on that place, though. The Jamesons. They’re a rum bunch.”

Teddy Roe turned to study the house. “Why would they take Jerry, though?”

“There was some furniture outside that house that he was going to look at,” Gabriella said. “So he might have gone past there.”

“All that rubbish they had on the verge?” Mrs. McKenzie sounded outraged. “I made a complaint about that. The road looked like a tip with all that junk lying out on the pavement.”