‘I keep practically everything you can think of in there,’ Katherine said, and smiled slowly. ‘Including the pills my doctor gave me to help me sleep. Bloody things stopped working after a time and I had to take more and more of them in order get any sleep at all. But the funny thing is, that gave me a good idea of how they worked, you know, about doses and things. And suddenly it was obvious. All I had to do was wait until everyone had raised their glasses after midnight, then kept a close eye on that man, and his glass. The moment he set it down – in order to take the last dance with his lady-love, as it happened – I slipped two and half doses into it, being careful not to be seen, of course, and simply waited.’

Everyone in the room let out a small sigh.

‘Of course, it would have all gone wrong if he’d drunk it and then stayed for more than ten minutes or so,’ she said, almost casually. ‘But I was counting on the weather, and our Millie wanting her other guests to see him leave in good time. Just to prevent any more gossip than usual, obviously,’ the artist said drolly. ‘They couldn’t have anyone thinking he was going to stay the night! Oh no. Too, too shocking!’ She laughed mockingly. ‘And sure enough, just as I thought, he obligingly drank the rest of his glass down, and made a show of saying goodnight and leaving. And I … I just watched him leave the house, then said my own goodbyes and went home myself.’

Katherine said this last sentence as if it surprised her somehow. ‘It felt … odd. Walking home. Wondering if it would work. If he’d crash the car before he got home. If it would be enough to kill him – and if not, trying to think of some other way of killing him.’

At this blunt, matter-of-fact, indeed almost offhand statement, Vincent gave a slight shiver.

‘And you would have tried again?’ Trudy asked quietly.

‘Oh yes,’ Katherine Morton said, looking at Trudy with a slight smile. ‘I’d made my mind up, you see,’ she said simply.

Chapter 33

Trudy, afraid the other woman might become too drunk if she didn’t act fast, quickly wrote out a statement of that night’s events, as the artist had described them, into her notebook in longhand and got Katherine to sign it. Clement then witnessed it.

They then guided the malleable, now almost content Katherine to the police station in Clement’s car. Trudy sat in the back with her, but asked no further questions. She knew the sergeant would want to conduct his own, formal interview as soon as they arrived.

She wasn’t surprised that Katherine seemed to feel almost satisfied now. Content even. The relief of confession must have been enormous.