“You’re not seriously trying to tell me Jett doesn’t know about Micky?” That I couldn’t believe.

“Yes and no. I mean, theoretically, he probably does. But Micky’s very careful to keep it under wraps. You won’t ever walk into a room here and find somebody doing a line or two. It’s all behindlocked-doors stuff. Everybody goes along with Jett’s little fantasies about this being a clean house. Moira was using that as a lever to put pressure on Kevin to make her joint producer. Micky was really running scared.”

“Scared enough to kill her?” I asked. Maybe I’m too naïve for this game, but even my naturally suspicious mind was having trouble getting round that idea.

Neil shrugged. “Coke makes you very paranoid. It’s a fact.”

“And the girlfriend? What exactly do you mean?” I demanded.

“I’m presuming you knew Moira had become a dyke, since it was you who tracked her down? Well, she’d been shacked up with some social worker called Maggie over in Bradford. The girlfriend

“And you think being given the big E is a motive for murder?” I said skeptically.

“If she thought Moira was packing her in to go back to Jett, yeah. Helluva blow to the ego. And she’s the only outsider you could reasonably expect Moira to let into the house.”

And she stood to inherit a substantial amount of money. I could see why Jackson was in love with the idea of Maggie. “You seemed to think Jett had a motive. But he has an alibi. He was with me, remember?”

“And I am Marie of Romania! Come on, Kate, I know that was all bullshit. And I know you believe he couldn’t have had anything to do with it. But just think on. Moira had turned his comfortable life on its head. That might have been OK if they had been lovers. But she wasn’t having any, and he really wasn’t handling that. I mean, you’ve heard all his New Age stuff about them being soul mates destined for each other. He wanted them to be together and make babies, for God’s sake. Maybe she just turned him down once too often. I mean, the guy has got one helluva quick temper. Maybe he thought that if he couldn’t have her, then no one else would. In spite of the front he puts up, he’s no pussycat.”

“One big happy family,” I remarked ironically. “All for one and one for all.”

“I tell you, if I wasn’t working for Jett, I could make a fortune with the shit I’ve picked up round here in the last few weeks.”