This is The Guardian.

The Earth of Welsh and English Rivers by Oliver Boulot.

Peter Hammond's house is so picture perfect.

Honey Goldstone scarlet post box by the door.

Pink roses climbing towards the first floor windows

that it could host a murder in a detective trauma.

It is a converted mill and the garden is long, narrow and exuberant

with water on both sides.

To the south is the mill race that once drove the stones that ground the call.

To the north is the River Windrush, which runs through Gloucestershire and Oxfordshire

on its way to join the Thames.

Hammond, a retired professor specialising in machine learning,

arrived here two decades ago and delighted in the variety of wildlife he could see in his garden.

Valls, otters, deer, foxes, badgers, grass snakes, lizards, swans and ducks,

as well as chub, barble and grayling swimming among the long fronds of the water crow foot

as it swayed over the gravel beds.

King Fischer's perched in the willows.

It was only in 2013 when he gained a new neighbour,

a keen angler and retired detective superintendent called Ashley Smith

that he realised something was wrong with his cop's world's paradise.

It took a fisherman's eye to see it was so bad said Hammond

who has steel-gray hair and a determined jaw as we walked through his garden recently.

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