‘Why should I have minded, Mr Hawthorne? I had a lot of fun with Charles. He was witty. He was generous. And if he could be a complete prick some of the time, there were plenty of compensations.’ She counted them on her fingers. ‘I had an allowance. I had this house. I had expensive presents. I could travel. Charles might be out there being photographed with different floozies for the gossip columns, but I was the one he always came home to. And for what it’s worth, he wasn’t the only one who played the field. We both did. We had an open marriage. No secrets from each other.’

‘He knew who you were with in Paris?’

Helen shook her head. ‘No. I hadn’t told him yet. I would have eventually. I didn’t get the chance.’

‘So who was he?’

For the first time, she looked vulnerable. ‘If I tell you his name, will you contact him?’

‘I might.’

She didn’t know whether to go on or not, but she knew she had no choice. She put the cigarette to her lips and the tip glowed red. ‘Jean-François Berthold,’ she said. The answer came out in a swirl of smoke. ‘I met him when he came to Alderney.’

‘And what was Jean-François Berthold doing in Alderney?’

‘He’s a land surveyor. He was working for a French company.’

‘Would that be Électricité du Nord?’

‘Yes.’ She was surprised he knew. Or perhaps she’d hoped he didn’t. ‘He’s part of the NAB project . . .’

‘Which your husband supported.’

‘I really don’t think that’s an appropriate question,’ Colin Matheson cut in. He had been so quiet up to now that I’d almost forgotten he was in the room.

‘Why not?’ Hawthorne demanded.

‘Charles has just been killed. Helen is in shock. And you’re suggesting some sort of . . . conspiracy?’

Hawthorne turned back to Helen. ‘Are you in shock, Mrs le Mesurier?’ he asked.

Helen sniffed. ‘I’m upset. Of course I am.’

Hawthorne got up and went over to the window. ‘You arrived yesterday from Paris. You didn’t stay long at the party. You went upstairs. Do you know what time that was?’

She didn’t know, so I helped her out. ‘It was ten past nine,’ I said. I remembered looking at my watch.

‘Did you go straight to bed?’

‘I unpacked and had a bath first.’

‘Were the curtains drawn?’

Helen thought back. ‘No. I drew them myself. After my bath.’

Hawthorne looked out of the window. ‘You can see the Snuggery from here.’