His tone galled her. He was right: being face to face was so much easier. This way he could manipulate her every word.

‘We’ve found Leo Brown.’

Kelly forgot Matt’s rudeness. ‘Where?’

‘In one of his aunt’s warehouses, along with half a million quid’s worth of rowing kit. The aunt’s in custody too. She’s a hard-old hag. Hasn’t said a word. Leo’s coming down from a high, so he’s jittery as anything.’

‘That’s brilliant! Has he said who hired him?’

‘Whoa, slow down, we haven’t even started the tough love yet. I’m making him sweat. We got a warrant for her office and found a Glock nine-millimetre.’

‘Bloody brilliant!’ Kelly clenched her fist.

‘You could have stayed in London and been in the thick of it.’

She didn’t bother answering. ‘I’ll ring the Montague Club for the guest list for Wednesday. I wonder if George was going to attend.’

‘I still think I should come north to see where it all happens. Up there in the sticks.’

She hung up. She couldn’t work out if he was winding her up personally or professionally. Was he trying to trip her up? Surely not. Undermine and embarrass, maybe. She shook her head. ‘Wanker,’ she said under her breath.

She found the number for the Montague Club and was put through to the bursar. She explained that as part of their ongoing inquiry, she needed to see the guest list for the Cambridge rowing alumni annual dinner. The man wasn’t sure about what to do, so Kelly reminded him that the club’s owner, Sebastian Montague-Roland, was happy for them to request the list, and that though she appreciated the need for discretion, this was a police inquiry, and they had secured a warrant. It was a tiny white lie: in fact warrants had to be so specific that a guest list was entirely different to a members’ list, but she knew they’d soon get one anyway, unless the army of lawyers intervened. She needn’t have worried. The man acquiesced quickly and she gave him her email address.

‘Did you know George Murphy?’ she asked.

‘Yes, madam, I did. He’d been coming here for years, but not so much since Lord Allerdale’s death, rest his soul.’

‘How did the club mark the passing of a distinguished member who was so close to the previous owner?’

The bursar’s voice dropped. ‘Well that’s the thing. They didn’t. I think it was a tricky subject. I heard he was murdered; it would be terrible publicity for the club.’

‘And do you think the late Lord Allerdale would have agreed?’

There was a pause.

‘No, madam, I don’t.’

‘Thank you.’