‘First of all, I’m Dr Clement Ryder, city coroner, and this is WPC Loveday,’ Clement said. Trudy could tell he was enjoying himself. He liked people who challenged him, and something about the way the artist notorious for her free spirit was regarding him, told her that Katherine Morton felt the same way.

‘Dr Death no less? Now I am impressed,’ Katherine drawled.

‘Let’s start with gossip, shall we?’ Clement said, magnificently ignoring the jibe. ‘You attended a New Year’s Eve party at Mrs Millicent Vander’s house recently.’

‘I did, but don’t hold that against me,’ the artist begged mockingly, taking another ferocious draw of her cigarette. Trudy noticed that she sucked on it so hard that it made the sides of her cheeks pull in. Clearly, the woman lived on her nerves and cigarettes. And maybe alcohol, for there was a distinct smell of spirits in the air.

Trudy let her eye wander briefly around the room, surprised to find it bare of almost any personal touches. No books, no paintings, just a photo of a lovely young girl of about twenty or so, that was perched in isolated splendour on top of a sideboard. She looked a bit like Katherine, but Trudy didn’t think it was a photograph of the artist as a younger woman. Her daughter maybe, a younger sister or perhaps a favourite niece?

‘You’re not a fan of Millicent, I take it?’ Clement deduced with a twinkle in his eye, and Trudy hastily drew her attention back to the matter in hand.

Katherine shuddered. ‘Don’t be nasty,’ she admonished.

‘So why did you go to her party? I did think, when I was told you were on the guest list, that it wasn’t the sort of … event … that would be likely to appeal to you,’ Clement admitted.

The artist broke off her concentrated smoking to give a great guffaw of genuine laughter. ‘Not only a James Mason lookalike, but a true gentleman as well. My, my,’ she said admiringly, and reaching forward to extract another cigarette, lit it straight from the one that she’d almost finished.