‘I had no idea.’ Marc folded the handkerchief away. He scowled at his assistant. ‘That was her fault.’

‘Actually, that’s not really fair,’ Kathryn said. ‘I told Marc about the invitation and it seemed like a good idea because we weren’t filming and the festival was happening just after his new book came out. I didn’t know anything about Charles le Mesurier and by the time I found out it was too late.’

‘I saw his name as the sponsor in the festival programme,’ Marc growled.

That had been on the Friday evening. I remembered Marc shouting at Kathryn in the room next to mine.

‘Did you talk to him last night?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘I could hardly avoid him, could I?’ Marc replied. ‘I was in his bloody house. But I wasn’t going to be intimidated by him. I did my job and I left. Sold quite a few books too, for what it’s worth, so the whole thing wasn’t a complete waste of time.’

‘Did you notice him go into the garden?’

‘No. I can’t say I did. I noticed he wasn’t there at ten o’clock, which was when we stopped serving food. I looked round for him to say goodbye and sod off, but there was no sign of him.’

‘Did you see any of the guests go outside?’

Marc thought back. ‘Only the blind woman. She went out onto the patio quite a few times. Puffing away on a pack of cigs. Her husband took her out the first time – that was quite early on – but after that I suppose she was able to find her way on her own.’

‘What about Maïssa?’ Kathryn said.

‘Who? Oh, you mean the black lady.’ Marc made a little face, as if correcting himself for his casual racism. He pointed towards the corner of the kitchen where another door that I hadn’t noticed before led outside. ‘Yes. She went out that way. But that was much earlier . . . about half past seven.’

‘Did she go down to the Snuggery?’

‘I’ve no idea. Kathryn and I were just taking out the s and k’s.’

‘Steak and kidney puddings,’ Kathryn said.

‘The secret is to catch the little bastards at exactly the right moment. If you leave them in too long the suet goes soggy.’

Hawthorne got up and went over to the door. He looked out into the garden, judging the different angles. It was just possible to see the Snuggery from here, but I imagined that Elizabeth Lovell, sitting on the other side of the house, would have been invisible. He tried the handle and was surprised when the door opened.

‘You didn’t lock this when you left?’ he asked.

Marc Bellamy shook his head. ‘I’d told Kathryn to mind the fort from ten o’clock, when we stopped serving. It was her job to clean up and check that the place was secure.’