“Kate!” Neil exclaimed as I stuck my head round the door of his office. “Come in!” I’d caught a glimpse of his retreating back as I’d entered the manor and followed him.

He was standing by his desk pouring a mug of coffee from a Thermos jug. His face had the bleary, unfocused look of a hangover. “Fancy a cuppa? I’ve no milk here, I’m afraid.”

“Black’s fine,” I replied. He opened his desk drawer and took out a second mug, which he filled and handed to me.

“Fancy a little something to keep the cold out?” he asked. I shook my head with a mental shudder, and watched in revulsion as he pulled a bottle of Grouse from his desk drawer and poured a generous slug into his mug. He took a long swallow of the brew, and as it went down, his face seemed to regain definition. “Aah,” he sighed comfortably. “That’s better.”

Neil slouched across the room and collapsed into a leather armchair in a corner. “So,” he said with a crooked smile, “how’s Hawkshaw the Detective getting on? Ready to finger the culprit yet?”

“Hardly,” I replied, sitting down on the typist’s chair in front of the desk. I was in two minds whether or not to tell him about Maggie’s arrest. On the one hand, I didn’t want to help him earn a shilling out of selling the story. But on the other, I was convinced Jackson was so far off-beam that I wanted him to end up looking like the fool he was. In the end, I decided I wanted to get my own back on Neil more than I did on Jackson, so I kept the news to myself.

“I’ve only just started my inquiries,” I said. “And if Gloria’s anything to go by, I’d have more joy panning for gold in the Mersey than extracting information out of you lot.”

Neil pulled a face. “I don’t envy you the lovely Gloria. But if it’s good gossip you’re after, you’ve come to the right place. My encyclopedic knowledge of the occupants of Colcutt Manor is entirely at your disposal. Fire away.” My relief must have shown in my face, for Neil chuckled. “Bit of a shock to the system, eh, finding someone who actually wants to talk.”

“Just a bit,” I said. “Before we get down to the serious gossip, though, I have to do the proper detective bit. You know, where were you on the night of, etc.”

He lit a cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke with an appreciative smile. “Eat your heart out, Miss Marple. Well, I’d been nattering to Kevin earlier, then about ten I went down the local pub for a few sherbets before closing time. I must have got back about half past eleven, then I came through here and did a couple