‘So tell me about the other agents working in the agency,’ Collins said. ‘How do they get their percentage?’

Nathan cleared his throat. ‘The other agents all have their own clients and pay ten percent of their income to the company for the privilege of working under the umbrella of the company name.’

Collins sucked in his breath. ‘Ten percent? Nice little earner for doing nothing. So can you give me a breakdown of all the agents’ earnings?’

Nathan looked nervous. ‘I don’t think I can divulge personal earnings.’

Collins leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. ‘Nathan, I am leading an investigation into a brutal murder and as there is a possibility the motive was financial, you have no option but to provide all the information I require.’

He leaned back in his chair and glanced towards Spencer, indicating with a finger and thumb for him to keep making notes.

Spencer nodded. It was going to be a long morning.

*

It took Jane and George Henson twenty minutes to track down the whippet cross, and when they found him he had a dead squirrel in his mouth. It took them another fifteen minutes to restrain him, get the kill out of his mouth and drag him across the road and back into the house. He smelled dreadful.

‘There’s no way I’m going to wash him again, whatever he smells like,’ Henson said.

Having wrenched the squirrel from his mouth, Jane was now more concerned about getting herself clean. Henson showed her into a downstairs toilet, which also acted as a cloakroom. She washed her hands, noting the expensive gardenia soap, then dried them on a thick white towel. She was just about to return to the drawing room when she noticed various coats hanging up, as well as a row of wellington boots. One of the coats was a ladies’ camel coat, and the hem had what looked like dark bloodstains on it. Jane inspected the coat carefully but did not remove it.

As she stepped back through the doorway, Henson almost knocked into her.

He lowered his voice. ‘I need to know exactly what’s been happening in the drawing room. You have to realize Justine is an exceedingly fragile woman. I need to know if a solicitor or someone should be with her.’

Jane eased the door closed behind her and gestured towards the kitchen. ‘Could we talk in there?’

Henson nodded, opening the kitchen door carefully so none of the dogs would escape.

‘I understand your concerns, sir. But it’s vital DI Miller gets all the information he can from Ms. Harris, given that she was present at the murder site.’

‘I suppose so,’ he said grudgingly. ‘I’m sorry – would you like a coffee?’

Jane’s head was throbbing. She needed a coffee.

‘Yes please.’ She reached into her bag and took two paracetamols from a blister pack and quickly popped them in her mouth.