The door was opened by the housekeeper, a small, anxious woman.

‘Mrs Grenville?’ she said in response to Molly’s inquiry. ‘I’m not sure if she’s free. If you’d just wait here…’

She hurried away in mid-sentence and disappeared into the room where they had sat for coffee on the evening of the dinner party. Molly prepared for a fight. She was just in the mood. She would demand to see Olivia if some excuse were made. Of course the woman was free. What else was there for her to do? But no battle was necessary and when the housekeeper returned Molly was led immediately into Olivia’s presence.

Olivia was sitting on a window seat, looking out on to the garden. She sat quite still, with her hands in her lap, until Molly came right into the room. Then she stood up to greet her.

‘Thank you for seeing me, Olivia,’ Molly said. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.’ The sarcasm was spoken almost before she had realised it but Olivia seemed not to notice.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Nothing important.’ She paused then added unenthusiastically. ‘Perhaps you’d like some coffee?’

Why not? Molly thought. Why don’t we go into the kitchen and make it for ourselves with granules from a jar and boiling water. Like ordinary people. But it would not do to antagonise the woman yet. ‘ Thank you,’ she said. ‘That would be very pleasant.’

Olivia nodded to the housekeeper who scuttled away, Molly supposed, to do the business with the grinder and the percolator.

Olivia walked away from the window and they sat in armchairs on either side of the fireplace. The grate had been cleaned and a bowl of dried flowers stood in front of the hearth. Olivia said distantly that the weather was very warm for so early in the spring. Molly agreed and resisted the temptation to observe that she supposed Olivia would prefer a downpour to discourage the reporters still camped out at the end of the drive. The housekeeper came into the room, pushing the door open with her back. She was carrying a tray with pots and cups and biscuits. It looked very impressive but when Molly tasted the coffee she decided it was instant after all and she smiled.

‘How can I help you?’ Olivia asked. The encounter with Molly was difficult for her. She did not know quite what line to take with the woman. Her parents had been friends of the family and Marcus seemed to think that Palmer-Jones could be useful to them, but she sensed that Molly was dangerous. She was like Ursula in many ways and Olivia did not trust her.

‘I was wondering if you’d had a phone call from Ursula on the evening of her death,’ Molly said.

The question shocked Olivia. ‘ No!’ she said. ‘Of course not. I’ve already told the police everything about Friday night.’