I've been silent for a bit, sipping my beer and gathering my thoughts when Gail nudges me. "Go on then, Ben."

"Are you sure you want to hear more? It's not that interesting – with or without me trying to make it sound dramatic."

"Yes, I am sure." She looks at me expectantly so I take a last mouthful of my beer and continue.

***

As I said, there wasn't much more I could do for Mr. Gills at the moment so I picked up the file on my so-called Morning-Mugger again in the hope of finding anything that had eluded me before. I didn't get far as my phone rang again. I hoped Mr. Gills finally remembered something - anything. But it wasn't him. It's was a man called Michaels, phoning from the lost property office in Midsomer Deverell.

"Sergeant, I think I have good news for you. I just saw the new listing for a missing camera pop up in the system and guess what – I have it here! It was brought in about an hour ago."

I couldn't believe my ears! "You're sure it's this camera?"

"Positive, correct type, correct serial number."

"I'll be right over."

Now that was the last thing I had expected, someone finding the camera and dropping it off at the lost property office. Had it not been stolen after all but had Mr. Gills lost it?

I drove back to Midsomer Deverell. The lost property office turned out to be run by the staff of the local farming museum, apparently the place where property is lost most often as it's where the visitors go. Anyway, it was indeed Mr. Gill's stolen camera.

I turned the camera over, it didn't seem to be damaged. "Who brought it in?"

Mr. Michaels didn't need to look it up. "Good old Liddy. Sorry Linda Bartels, she's what – over eighty but still quite lusty. Takes her little yorkie for a walk regularly every day. She's a good soul, brings in stuff at least once a week. Often enough it's just some broken thing someone's dropped, but sometimes – like today – it's items that people will actually be looking for."

"Sounds like she's the good soul of the community."

Michaels laughed. "Well, maybe. Most of all she's lonely and just looks for an excuse to come in and chat. Her kids moved away years ago and her friends have died off one by one. Only her little yorkie to keep her company nowadays."

I asked Michaels to give me her address and went to see Mrs. Bartles. She doesn't live very far from the museum.

When I rang her doorbell, there was frenetic barking on the other side, the little yorkie going crazy. I heard some shuffling and her chiding the dog before the door opened. She's a little old lady, walking a bit stooped but other than that Michaels was right – she is lusty.

"Mrs. Bartles? Detective Sergeant Jones, Causton CID."

"Oh, police? Has something interesting happened around here finally?"

It wasn't quite the greeting I had expected. The yorkie had wriggled past her and was eagerly sniffing my trouser legs now. At least he had stopped barking like mad.

"You found this camera this morning, Mrs. Bartles?" I held it out to her.

"Oh yes, yes, we did, didn't we Jasper? But please, call me Liddy. And do come it. Would you like a cup of tea, Sergeant?"

Jasper had pricked his ears upon hearing his name and was wagging his little tail eagerly. "Thank you, tea sounds lovely."

She led me into her living room, a very florid place with lots of photos of what I presumed to be her kids and grandchildren all around. "Take a seat, Sergeant. I had just put the kettle on so tea won't be a minute."

I sat down on a tasselled sofa which turned out to be a mistake. Jasper was up on the sofa next to me trying to sniff... let's say higher regions than before. I tried to shove him away gently but he kept coming back each time.

Mrs Bartles reappeared in the door. "Oh Jasper, you bad boy. Come here!" Thankfully he did.

"I'm so sorry, Sergeant. He's such a naughty boy, aren't you, Jasper?" She ruffled his head affectionately. If that was her being stern with the dog it's no wonder it's got bad manners.

She handed me a cup of tea from the tray she had brought with her. "So, what can I help you with?" She sat down in an armchair with a slight sigh.

"Where exactly did you find the camera?"

"Oh, I'm not sure we exactly found it. We brought it in, but you see, it was hanging on a fence pole outside the Carmichael's place, as if someone had picked it up and hung there."

"The Charmichaels? Where do they live?"

"Oh, what's the number, Jasper? Meadow Lane... 13 is it? I'm afraid I'm not certain of the house-number. It's the red-brick house with the white fence. You can't really miss it."

"And when exactly did you find it, Mrs. Bartles?"

"We were on our way back, so it must have been... around 8:40? Yes, that sounds about right."

"Did you meet anyone around Meadow Lane?"

"No, we didn't, eh Jasper? We never seem to meet anyone. It's sad, really."

I finished my tea. "Well, thank you Mrs. Bartles. The owner of the camera will be happy to get it back so soon."

She walked me to the door. "Oh, Sergeant – why is the police asking round for a lost camera? There is more to it, isn't there?"

"Maybe, maybe not. That's what I'm trying to find out."

She sighed. "I take it that's the kind way of telling me you can't talk about it. Oh, well. Good luck, Sergeant."

I went back to the car, glad to escape Jasper. I looked up Meadow Lane on my mobile, it isn't even close to where Mr. Gills had been attacked. Anyway, it was time to return the camera to it's rightful owner. I didn't have any hope of finding useful fingerprints on it after all this handling, so I could just as well make Mr. Gills happy and return it.

***

Gail finally bursts out laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're laughing pretty hard for nothing."

"Well, I've tried to imagine the scene on the sofa.. Jasper the bad boy."

Now I have to laugh, too, rather because Gail's laugh is infectious than because of the memory of the yorkie trying to shove his nose where I didn't appreciate it.