A short while later, the team were outside Carla's house; a beautiful but modest villa with a riot of colourful flowers in the front garden. The door was ajar. Camille walked forwards to enter but Humphrey put his arm out to stop her. Camille looked at him; surprised.

"We don't know what's happened; let's be cautious." Humphrey advised.

They slowly approached and gently pushed the door fully open. An old man lay on the tiled floor of the hallway, covered in blood; dead.

Humphrey and Camille looked around; there was no sign of a forced entry, nothing seemed to be disturbed. The dead man was still wearing his expensive gold watch and a priceless painting still hung on the wall; now splattered with blood.

"What do you know about this man, Fidel?" Humphrey asked.

"Not much. He's Carla's husband." Fidel answered.

Camille raised her eyebrows at the obviously huge difference in age between the couple. "Was he married before?" She asked.

Fidel sighed. "More than once. And there are four grown up daughters; all of them old enough to be Carla's mother. There's no love lost there."

Humphrey took a last glance round. "There's nothing more we can do here. We need to speak to Carla."