Kevin nodded in resignation. “There’s a couple of road crew live locally. I’ll get them over to sort it out.” He got to his feet and left, followed at a trot by Micky. Gloria finished making her herbal tea and turned to glare at Tamar, who was helping herself to a slice of Jett’s toast. If I had my breakfast in an atmosphere like that, I’d be sucking Rennies for the rest of the day.

“While you’re all here, can I ask when it was that you knew how Moira had been killed?” Time to get to work.

Gloria looked uncertainly at Jett. Tamar covered her toast with strawberry jam and said, “The first I knew was after I got up that morning. Jett was the only one who knew, and he wasn’t in the mood for talking. Besides, PC Plod was standing over us in the drawing room till well after four o’clock. It really wasn’t the atmosphere for cozy chats about murder methods.”

“Gloria?” I asked.

“I knew before I went to bed,” she admitted reluctantly. “I went to my office after they told us we could go to bed, and I overheard one of the policemen saying he’d never seen anyone battered to death with a saxophone before.”

I couldn’t disprove it, and she couldn’t prove it. “Did you discuss it with anyone else?”

“Of course not,” she retorted, back on her dignity.

“And was there anyone else in your office with you?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure everything was locked up securely before I went to bed.”

“Jett, did you discuss the method of Moira’s death with anyone at all apart from me?”

He shook his head. “Kate, I was too fucked up for conversation. No way did I want to talk about it. Also, you told me to keep my mouth shut, so I knew there had to be a good reason for it.”

I thanked them all, and went off in search of Neil. He was in his office, battering the keyboard of his computer as if it were an old manual typewriter. I winced as I perched on the edge of his desk.

He paused and grinned. “I know exactly as much as I need to do the job,” he said.

“And if all else fails, read the manual?”

“You got it in one,” he replied, still smiling.

“It’s a shame,” I said. “I always feel sorry for people who don’t use their machines to their full potential.”

“How do you mean?” he asked, finally intrigued enough to give me his full attention.

“Well, for example, you must have a comms setup here to send your copy, am I right?”

“You mean the modem and the Hermes Link?” he asked.